


Legend

by Rhohel_of_the_Shire



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Battle of Five Armies, Fix-It, M/M, Multi, Protective Legolas, Protective Thranduil, The One Ring - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-06 17:58:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4231377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhohel_of_the_Shire/pseuds/Rhohel_of_the_Shire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Elves all over Middle-Earth had spent their time as children looking for the hobbits that lived in rabbit holes in the ground. They spend their childhoods looking for the elusive creatures, but with no luck. When the Elves of Mirkwood find the hobbit that travels with the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, they keep him. And intend to, with no hope of letting him go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Found and Kept

**Author's Note:**

> Just something that I thought of during class last semester, I wrote it in my notebook and just came across it today. I decided to write it.
> 
> Pairing: Bilbo Baggins/Thranduil, the Elven King of Mirkwood
> 
> Bilbo Baggins/Legolas Greenleaf
> 
> Rating: MA
> 
> The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R Tolkien.

Hobbits were strange creatures, those that were content to love out their lives in the Kindly West for the rest of their lives if need be. Very rarely did one journey out of the Shire, and only the Men of Bree could testify that Hobbits were indeed real. For they lived in symbiotic nature with the halflings but further than Bree Hobbits became the things of legend. They knew it too and used this fact to teach young faunts not to leave the Shire, that they could be content in this little piece of Arda.

This however did not stop some adventurous Tooks from taking their leave of the Shire, and the mother of Bilbo Baggins was one of those Tooks.

As a young child Bilbo was taught by his mother that many people east of the Misty Mountains thought Hobbits were legends. That the elflings of the East would scour the forests looking for hobbits, like he looked for elves in the surrounding woods. He had learned that he was far from the norm to the other races of the world, and that they believed Hobbits weren't real.

She, herself, was thought to be a small dwarrowdam without a wisp of a beard by the Lord Elrond. Belladonna would have let the elf think that if it weren't for that damned meddling wizard! Though the Lord was more than happy to keep the secret of her race once he had his fill of Hobbit Lore. His sons and daughter taking great lengths to show the Hobbit lass around Rivendell as Gandalf laughed at her misery. At least the elves know knew of her dislike of footwear.

Belladonna was one of the few Hobbits that traveled out of the Shire, and as consequence was a mystery to the humans, elves, and dwarrow alike.

Her son was another of the Hobbits that dare to leave the Shire, albeit he may have done so on a whim.

_"The elves think us as mysteries, something that is exotic. If they find you, they keep you!" she exclaimed as she tickled Bilbo's stomach._

_"M-Mama!" he laughed out._

_Once she had let him giggle it out, Belladonna carried him to bed; tucking in her precious child as Bungo watched fondly from the doorway._

_"Will they get me Mama?"_

_"No, they won't. You have no need to fear honey."_

_"Nighty-night Mama, Papa. Loves you."_

_"We love you too."_

He dimly remembered what his mother had told him about the elves of the East, that they would keep him if he was ever found. That they spent centuries looking in their forests for little hobbits hiding in little holes. He should have taken her stories seriously, but he brushed them off as children's bedtime stories. Never did he think that she would be right.

Bilbo could hardly think of how everything could go so wrong; he had released the entire Company for them to be captured again. Then that Bloody Ring decided that it was too big for his finger and he was spotted by a brown haired elf. His eyes went wide at the sight of the Hobbit and he began to shout out his surprise. He tried to get away from the elf but was grabbed by the arm.

"Periannath! (Hobbit)"

The entire company of dwarves stood in chains as most of the patrol that came across them left to see the 'periannath'. The head of the patrol looked like he wanted to go but stayed behind to make sure the dwarves didn't go anywhere.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know."

" **Where's Bilbo?** " Bofur whispered to Thorin as he kept looking to all the awestruck elves that were gathered around in a circle. Fili and Kili doing their best to see what the elves were looking at before Fili gasped. Gloin who was closest to the blonde prince whispered to know what they were looking at and grew thunderous when he was told."They what?!" he was quickly shh'ed by Fili as the head patrol man scanned his eyes over the group.

"Quiet nawag (Dwarf)," the blonde elf growled out as he waited patiently for the rest of the guards to finish. A red-head she-elf came up to the head of the group with a small humanoid figure in her arms. The large, hairy feet on the creature alerted the company to where their burglar was; and the burglar in question seems to have fainted before he was wrapped in a large elven cloak. Thorin could see the blood that dripped down his face and the black blood that clung to his skin and hair, and almost immediately the dwarrow began to call for their burglar back.

The she-elf held Bilbo in her arms as if he was made of  _glass_ as the other elves only sneered at the group before marching them to the Halls of the Woodland Realm.

"Give us back the halfling!" Nori yelled at the she-elf as she stayed near the head of the group.

The blonde leader only scoffed at the notion, "As if we'd give such a treasure up nawag." His subordinates agreeing and all the Company could do was simmer in anger from kind Ori to the elderly Balin. While they may not have heard of the Shire Folk before the quest, Bilbo Baggins had made his way into everyone's hearts and it would seem that he was there to stay.

The little hobbit was curled into the crook of the she-elf's neck and whimpered slightly whenever she accidentally hurt him by hopping over large logs. A large bump was forming on the side of his head and his cheeks were beginning to show signs of bruising. A thin trail of blood was leaking out of his mouth as his mouth opened slightly and the elves began to speed up their progress.

Majestic was the only way to describe the Halls of Mirkwood, the high arches were made out of tree roots and the entire place was built into several massive natural caves. The throne room presiding over everything and the entire throne itself was magnificent. Atop the wooden throne was the King of the Elves, his regal posture made him seem higher than the others and his crown spoke of his dominance. He looked so much like the head of the patrol that found them and then it clicked in the dwarrows' heads.

They were in the presence of the Prince and King of this realm, chances of escape were growing dimmer and dimmer.

"It has been a long time since Thorin Oakenshield was last seen East of the Misty Mountains. What brings you here? For what purpose does your journey end?" he drawled out as the last of the Company came to stop in front of him. The she-elf stepped forward with the Prince and bowed as best as she could to the King with the Hobbit in her arms.

"My lord, we have found something in the forest," she began and the king's eyebrows rose.

His lithe body basically flowed down the slight spiral staircase on his throne to come to a stop in front of the guard, all while looking at the bloody bundle in her arms. "I see. Tell me Captain Tauriel, where did you find a periannath?" his blue eyes took in the sight of Bilbo.

"He was in the forest, Faenion found him. The periannath is injured and Oakenshield seems to be fond of him."

Thranduil grinned and nodded his head at Tauriel, "Take him to the healers. Make sure he is seen to."

She nodded and bowed again before walking away with Bilbo, the Prince wanting to follow but under the steely gaze of his father he didn't. There he stayed as his father eyed the group of dirty, bloody dwarves with disdain. His keen eyes following every move the dwarves may, "Tell me what were you doing trespassing through my domain?"

"What business is it of yours?"

He stepped close to the younger dwarves and stopped when he heard the animal-like growls from Dwalin as he neared Fili. "What do you want?" Thorin gritted out at Thranduil.

"I wish to know how you came by one of the fabled Hobbits."

"I'd rather rot than tell you," and Thranduil smirked.

"I hoped you would say that," he nodded to his son who began to take the dwarves away, "Stay then and rot. A hundred years or more."

Thorin struggled to stay near his nephews but was forced away by the elven guards, and from the top of his throne the elf called out once more.

"A hundred years is a blink in the life of an elf, I'm patient. I can wait."

As for now he would give Tauriel time to get to the healers and for the hobbit to be healed, later he would have answers to his questions.

~.~.~.

She was in awe at the little creature that lay spread on the large bed that made him seem more like an elfling, his injuries were bandaged up and he just looked fragile. The healers were diligent and made sure that the Hobbit was cared for and his body washed of its grime; the healers spent as much time as they could near the Hobbit. They took notes of blood, structure, and characteristics of Bilbo; finding the known knowledge of him valuable from his curly head to his hairy toes.

Venom was coursing through his veins but in an effort to dilute it the healers made him swallow goblets filled with elven blood. The place where he was bit was festering and made the side of his stomach ache terribly. All the elves wanted to do was make sure that the living legend was up and running before long, for many of their childhoods were spent looking for such creatures down rabbit holes and the such.

"Beautiful," Tauriel muttered as she ran her fingers through the silky hair.

"The stories were true," she turned her head to look at king and prince that entered the room. They swooped in and all got up from what they were doing to bow at the royalty. He only waved his hand almost absently as he stood on the other side of the Hobbit's bed. "My father, King Oropher, had once met a periannath. When they were said to be a wandering people, but the problem was that they look like elflings when dressed appropriately. So none believed him, but I did.

"He told me of their uncanny stealth and ridiculously large feet. Over time these became the night stories for young ones and eventually over millennia they passed into legend. Many have scoured the lands East of the Misty Mountains for the little people but we never found one. There hasn't be one seen until... well until now," all were listening to his words. Even ones that were pretending to be working didn't manage to fool themselves, all were engrossed in the story.

One that they knew so well.

"I was told that they were simple beings, ones with a love for food and comfort. Though this one doesn't look like he's had the chance to indulge in that, but when he wakes we can provide that for him. Understand?" there was no question to what he was ordering. Make the Hobbit want to stay and indulge in his every whim and want.

His bruised cheeks were slightly sunken and his eyes held dark circles under them; the Hobbit would need his time to recover. Then what came after would be decided, but as far as the elves were concerned the Hobbit was going to stay. No matter the cost. Thranduil laid a hand on one of those delicate cheeks and stroked the purple skin. Legolas was more interested in his pointed ears and ran fingers on the silken skins, causing the ear to twitch slightly. Both Tauriel and Thranduil turned their heads in sync and Legolas threw his hands in the air.

"I didn't mean for that to happen."

Long lashes fluttered slightly as the Hobbit opened his eyes and groaned low in his throat; his mouth parting and pain filled gulps were heard. Bilbo's honey eyes closed once more and Tauriel gently shook the poor thing, the bright eyes opening again and staying open for the elves. Ragged breaths tore through his body and he reached up for the ceiling.

Thranduil took the smaller hand in his much larger one gently and helped the Hobbit sit up, supporting him with a steady hand on his back. Bilbo clutched onto the King's hand tightly as his confused eyes took in the sight around him. Elves were crowding around him and were talking in low whispers as he got used to his surroundings.

"W-where am I?" his croaky voice came out so harshly that he jumped in surprise.

"Míriel, please get a glass of water," Thranduil said to a healer. She nodded before going to get the glass, and all the while Bilbo was still trying to wrap his head around the situation. An overly large cup was held to Bilbo's lips and he gulped down the clean water; oh how he missed the luxury of clean water! The deep lull of the blonde who was keeping him upright caught his attention, "You are safe. Safe in the Halls of the Woodland Realm, dear periannath."

He groaned in pain and was carefully laid back down again; a hand stroking his curls as he felt his head get cushioned by a soft pillow.

"May we know your name periannath?" Tauriel asked as she stroked his head carefully, her green eyes alight with excitement. The other elves leaned in, desperate to know his name.

"B-Bilbo, son of Belladonna and B-Bungo Baggins," he wheezed out, cautious of the elves, "W-why do you w-want to know?"

The healers whispered into Thranduil's ear and he nodded, "Everyone, let Bilbo rest for now. There will always be another day to learn more about him, understand?"

"Yes, your Majesty," everyone echoed.

"M-Majesty?" Bilbo squeaked out. Thranduil put his hand on Bilbo's shoulder to keep him from getting up, his larger hand was splayed over most of his chest as well. He could feel the bones that jutted out of his skin and frowned, it was obvious that he hadn't been eating like he should have. Though, who knows how long he was in the Mirkwood, a poisonous land was outside his Halls and there would be very little for the Hobbit to eat.

"Sleep," he said simply as he draped the covers over Bilbo's small frame and got up from his seat. He was getting ready to leave when a small hand on his robes stopped him. A, rather bushy in Bilbo's opinion, eyebrow raised in question as the last elf exited the room.

His voice nearly brought the king to his knees with how sad it was, "Stay with me?" Thranduil nodded his head and sat in the chair he had occupied and stroked the curly hair of  _his_ hobbit. His hobbit, yes he liked the sound of that very much.

There was no way that this Hobbit was leaving their grip.

He wouldn't allow it.

~.~.~.

"Seven meals!"

"Where do you put it?"

"Seven entire courses?!"

"Little One, how can you consume that much a day?"

Bilbo was seriously regretting his choice of telling the elves about his culture, he really was. It had started with the one named Tauriel coming in to check up on the hobbit, who was peacefully eating his lunch. Then she got curious about Hobbits as a race and began spouting off questions faster than he could process it, and her questions had began to draw a small crowd of healers.

Then the subject of food came up and Bilbo was more than happy to enlighten the elves about the wonders of SEVEN meals a day. Starting with his favorite place to start and that was first and second breakfast, but the elves only stared at him incredulously as he explained in great length why it was so important. Though he soon realized they weren't listening to him and were relaying what he said to a lone she-elf who was writing the new knowledge as fast as she could.

The others were shooting at him their own input on the matter, "Dear periannath that is so much food for one little hobbit!

"Its quite normal for Hobbits!" he defended and folded his arms against his chest.

"Really Little One?"

"Yes! First Breakfast and Second Breakfast is the most important ways to start the day! Followed by elevensies, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner and then supper; all in that respective order of course," he told the group as they gossiped back and forth in Sindarin. The elves questioned him and when they received answers, those same answers were quickly written down. Tauriel, being the perceptive one of the group, had asked Bilbo how many times he ate today. "Well, this is my first meal because I awoke after noon," he said and she nodded to one of the healers.

"Please get some fruit from the cooks," she ignored Bilbo's protests and looked out the open windows. Groaning when she saw that it was indeed after noon and got up from her chair. "Have a nice day Little One," she smiled and patted his head before taking her leave of the hobbit.

Bilbo could only stare at the woman as she left and then at all the healers who were talking among one another as he silently crept out of his large bed.

The Company. Where was the Company?

Using every bit of the fabled stealth that Gandalf had exaggerated about Bilbo made his way to the door that Tauriel exited from, his large feet making no sound on the stone and wood beneath him. The nightgown that he was put in trailed behind him as he tiptoed his way down corridors and walkways, every step he took was a cautious one made. His eyes were alert for any sign of movement and if there happened to be a stray guard or maid near him he would hid in the first alcove he found. Or just behind a large tapestry with a silent prayer that no one would see his feet, and when the footsteps had gone he would get out.

He had know clue where he was going but his main objective was to find the Company and he could only assume they were in the dungeons, wherever that was. He padded along and froze at the sight of the Elven King standing in front of a small pool. Bilbo held his breath and quietly backed into the stairwell he just walked down and nearly died of fright when he heard footsteps behind him. In a panic he looked around and jumped into a small alcove that was completely visible to anyone who happened to look to their side.

"I know you're there. Why do you linger in the shadows?" Bilbo heard the King say and he let out a small breath of relief when he saw Tauriel pass his little hiding spot without him being noticed.

"My Lord, I have an update from the healers. They can't find the Little One," she explained in a hurry. Her green eyes alight in worry while Bilbo's own eyes were wide with fear, he had to leave.  _He had to leave._  They couldn't find him yet, if they did he would never find the Company in the elves' dungeons; hell he'll never  _find_ the dungeons at this rate. He slipped out of his hiding place and quickly made him way up the stairs; trying to make as little sound as possible.

The conversation behind him got quieter and quieter as he kept his pace desperately, the once welcoming halls he walked down were now ominous. The long nightgown trailed dirt onto the silk as he began to sprint down the corridors, and he ran as fast as he dared down stairs. His head still hurting and it felt like his blood was burning; though he had to keep going. He had to find Thorin and the others.

Bilbo's pale skin and white nightgown had him stick out like a sore thumb, and he definitely felt like a sore fucking thumb. His entire body ached as he pushed himself forward despite his body screaming for him to stop. Rounding a corner he found himself caught by long arms and was pressed against a tough armor; his smaller body was carefully inspected by the larger one.

Long blonde hair filled his vision as the elf in front of him held onto the hobbit in confusion and shock, "Periannath? What are you doing here? Why aren't you in the healing ward?"

He had to think of something and quick, "I, uh, I wanted to see the Halls of the Woodland Realm. I've spent much of my life reading about how grand the elves made their Halls, so I wanted to see yours. To see if they lived up to the stories." Bilbo had a rushed explanation but he hoped that it sounded sincere; by the look of smugness on his face made him feel extreme relief.

"Why didn't you wait Little One? We would have been happy to show you around when you got healed completely," the blonde ran an exasperated hand through his hair.

"I didn't want to bother any of you," he wasn't telling a lie. He really didn't want to inconvenience the elves healing him, but he also wanted to sneak away to find the Company.

"Don't worry Bilbo, you'll never bother us. We want the best for you," he couldn't help but to feel the guilt course through his veins as he heard the sincerity in his voice. "Come, the healers have been worried sick," the elf said as he gently placed his hand on Bilbo's shoulder to guide him back. The warm hand felt the clammy shoulder and looked to the hobbit in worry. His brown curls were pressed against his head and just saturated in sweat; his cheeks were flushed red with heat.

"Bilbo? Are you okay?"

The hobbit only nodded and tried to hide his ailments by the elf was taking none of it and scooped him into his arms like a child. Bilbo's head rested against the elf's neck as his curly hair wet the green fabric of his undershirt. "You're definitely not okay Little One," he said as he began to sprint in the maze of hallways, trying to get to the healing ward quickly.

Bilbo knew, as he rested his head against the elf's neck, that he wouldn't be able to get away from their attention that easily anymore. It would be much harder to find the Company in such a big place, and he would have the elves breathing down his neck.

Little did he know that they were not going to let the hobbit go without a fight, and a fight they would bring.


	2. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything was going swimmingly, and if it continued to go this well then they would win it all.
> 
> The hobbit.
> 
> Safety from Smaug.
> 
> Many things were won when the Company of Thorin Oakenshield escaped the Mirkwood without their Burglar and it was time to rejoice in the victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got great feedback on AO3 and I want to thank everyone who really supports this. P.S. Jurassic Park reference!
> 
> Pairing: Bilbo Baggins/Thranduil, the Elven King of Mirkwood
> 
> Bilbo Baggins/Legolas Greenleaf
> 
> Rating: MA
> 
> The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

The Elven King and the Captain of the Guard were pacing in the healing ward when Legolas came back with Bilbo, the hobbit was pale and sweaty as he kicked the doors open with his foot. "Found him!" he called out, breaking his father and Tauriel from their pacing. The red head ran up to Legolas and without even glancing at the Prince she took the Hobbit into her arms and carried him to his bed. She was fussing with the healers as Bilbo was checked over for any sort of injuries and abnormalities.

"I think he needs another goblet of blood, he looks so pale still."

"His bite wound is still fresh and the bandage needs to be replaced."

"He has a fever running! Some cool water please Lassien!"

Thranduil walked regally to Bilbo's bedside and sat down in the chair next to him. He took the bowl of cool water from Lassien as well as the silken cloth from her and dabbed at Bilbo's forehead. The hobbit shuddered as the damp cloth touched his head, but he eventually leaned into the touch as it helped his fever cool down.

"How much blood has he had?" he asked one of the head healers.

"About four goblets my lord, he has lost a lot of blood that needs to be replenished. Since we don't have Hobbit blood we've had to settle for Elven blood. We can only hope his body doesn't reject it."

"And if it accepts the blood?"

"Then he heals with some repercussions."

The blonde king nodded as he mulled it over, "Are these bad?"

"Quite the opposite your highness, I've seen the effect in men and they lived past their lifespans."

Legolas watched as the healers changed the bandages on his abdomen and frowned when he saw a large scar run across Bilbo's stomach. It ended just at the bottom of his ribs and puckered slightly; he ran a finger on the bottom part of the scar. "You think Oakenshield and his filth caused this?" he asked his father.

"Anything is possible at this point ion nin (my son), don't be surprised."

"I'm going to check on the prisoners and see if they have anything to say," he said as he left his father's side. Thranduil just nodded and before Legolas left the room he called out to him.

"Don't believe any poison they might try to shove into your ears. They aren't to be trusted."

"Of course Father."

The halls of his home were grand and decorative as he walked through it at a fast pace, for he had answers and he wanted them now. How had the dwarves find something that he spent centuries looking for? What was their quest? Why had they thought to cross the borders into their realm? His long hair was drifting behind him as he basically jumped down the steps leading into the dungeons and sought out the youngest dwarves first.

He remembered seeing one with a stubble and decided to question him before any others, and if he remembered correctly he was further in the back than the others. Walking down the different pathways he ignored the glares and the scathing remarks from the dwarves he passed on his way to the youngest. Legolas was no idiot and he knew that the words thrown at him in Khuzdul were insults and was glad he didn't know the language. Mahal's children were all the same, greedy and vain, don't forget hard headed.

The golden haired on with a braided beard tried in vain to grab some of Legolas' clothes as he passed by, but the Prince was able to jerk his sleeves away from the cell door in time. "WAIT!" the dwarf cried out but Legolas was long gone.

When he got to the youngest dwarf's cell he watched silently as he played with a small stone in his hands, "What is that?" His curiosity got the better of him and instead of asking meaningful questions he had settled on mundane. He looked up from his place on the ground and glared at him, those dark brown eyes pouring metaphorical venom into his body.

"None of your business."

"Come now, I've come about your friend. The periannath," he explained as he settled himself on the floor near the cell bars.

"Perinnat? You mean Bilbo?"

"Periannath, Master Dwarf, and yes I do mean Master Bilbo."

The dwarf looked torn between begging for news of the hobbit and not succumbing to the loyalty he felt for Oakenshield and his Company. His brown eyes reflected his inner conflict, but eventually the need to understand a little of what was going on won out. "Is he okay?" the dwarf asked quietly, almost a whisper if Legolas hadn't been listening.

"He is... healing slowly. Master Dwarf, he had gone through a tough ordeal in the Mirkwood and its taking a toll on his body. What was he even doing in such a poisonous environment anyways?"

"We were-" the dwarf caught himself from falling into Legolas' trap and shook his head.

"You were what?"

Legolas bristled slightly when the dwarf refused to answer him again, and in order to get some information he decided to use tactics. Tactics that would have made even elves talk, or stubborn dwarrow in this case, and he used the fact that he had a brother to try and get said information. It was a problem getting him and the golden dwarf away from each other and by the similar beads they had in their hair it was down to deduction at that point. Even the most dim of the guards could have learned that they were brothers.

Putting on a stern look Legolas got to his feet, "Well, I guess I must ask your brother." That got the dwarf's interest and he ran into the cell bars and tried to grab the elf's sleeve in desperation. The elf looked down expectantly at the small dwarf and raised a thin eyebrow in question, as if allowing him to speak.

"Wait please! What about him!?"

"I'll tell you what you want to know, if you tell me what I wish to know."

The Prince of Mirkwood smiled as the young dwarf fell into his web, and took the bait gladly.

Though he could understand, anyone would do anything for their family and he felt slightly guilty for using that against the dwarf.

"What is your name Master Dwarf?"

"Kili, and you?"

"I am called Legolas."

~.~.~.

He should have known that the elves would be more protective of him after his first time escaping their sight, and it seemed that he would always have an elf with him wherever he went. Bilbo Baggins was the most irritated hobbit at the moment as he tried to bat away the hands of the Captain who seemed adamant at her attempts of braiding his curly hair. The red headed she-elf was content in giving Bilbo company, albeit it was unwanted at this moment, and he had given up in trying to get her to stop.

His days were boring at best and most of the time he was barely allowed to leave his bed and when he did Bilbo was accompanied to his destination and back. The tales told to him only kept him from completely dying of boredom, and he silently wondered how the Company was doing. The few things that brightened his days were the stories and the food, cause ever since he told the elves of the proper number of required meals he received them. All seven of them to be exact.

While Bilbo was being cared for with the utmost respect, something he really disliked, there was a thinly covered layer of possessiveness to the elves. The King was one of the worst, followed by Tauriel and Legolas; it set him on edge how sheltered he was. Those three taking precautions to keep Bilbo in the dark, skillfully diverting questions and the such.

It was a week after he first woke up when he first tried to approach the subject of his fellow Company and he asked the King about them. A mistake he soon realized when he was met with a glare and an explanation on why Thorin Oakenshield should not be trusted. Bilbo tried not to listen to the cruel reality that Thranduil hoisted onto his ears, but even he could not refuse the truth.

"He only trusts people when it is in his gain, dear Bilbo. Oakenshield has only been using you after you proved your worth."

Thranduil was right, the  _entire company_ had only started to warm up to him after he had sacrificed his life on a whim to save Thorin from Azog. He thought that the dwarves had been grateful to him, but what if they really were using him? "They wouldn't do that! Would they?" he sounded uncertain at the end and Thranduil had held Bilbo's hands in his and shook his head.

"I'm afraid that he would, and when he is done getting what he wants he'll throw you away."

He was sure they wouldn't do that, but then again the evidence was there and Thranduil hadn't done anything to prove otherwise. Bilbo was conflicted about the entire thing and next to try and get some answers he talked to Legolas, the elf that found him wandering the halls. "Why do we care periannath?" the elf was confused at the question, but answered it truthfully. "We care because we can, we found you Little One. Why should we not care for you?" and Bilbo couldn't answer that.

Why would such beings care for him?

Then he asked Tauriel, she was more lenient to him but was still firm in not telling him what he wanted to know and mirrored Thranduil's explanation. "The way I see it Little One is that they'll use anything to their own gain and as such will use you till you have nothing more to give," she cooed softly as she petted his hair.

"I had proved myself to them though!"

"As a  **burglar**  you did, oh Little One. We see you as a treasure, you need not prove yourself to us. We, and I believe I speak for all, see you for you."

Right now Bilbo didn't know what to think, the elves had treated him better in one week than Thorin and his Company had in three months. They didn't expect anything from him and always loved a good laugh and a nice cheer from him. His mother had spoke of the elves as if they were a bad thing but as of right now he could only see the good in them. Sure they kept the Company in their prisons but what else should he expect; they had been the ones to trespass in their lands. Why did they keep him separate from the dwarves anyway?

"You were injured Bilbo, we are not heartless creatures," Thranduil had told him as he handed him a goblet of blood.

"Do I have to?"

"Bottoms up Little One," the hobbit's nose crinkled in displeasure as he gulped down the thick blood. Thranduil handed him a crisp handkerchief so he could dab the excess blood off his face. "We only make you drink it for your own good," the King said as he took the silver cup from the smaller one's hands. Bilbo only nodded as he settled against the pillows that lay propped up against the headboard.

Thranduil's thick eyebrow lifted as he looked at the wilted form of the hobbit and he sat back in his chair, "Whatever is the matter dear one?"

Bilbo refused to answer.

"Come now, you can tell us anything."

"Is it true?" Bilbo asked after a couple moments of silence.

"Is what true?"

Bilbo's honey eyes looked the King dead in the face without the usual hesitation he got from his subjects, and the need in the hobbit's eyes caught him off guard. It was a burning desire that the King himself had recognized immediately, the need for a particular something. May it be an object or thought, the hobbit wanted and who was he to deny him?

"What you, Legolas, and Tauriel have told me; that you all care. And that- that Thorin was using me," his meek voice was so quiet that Thranduil could barely hear him. He did though and fought to keep a smile off his face, for he had planted the seeds of doubt that were growing in front of his very eyes. The hobbit was starting to learn that the dwarves were a detriment to his well being. The King knew the games Thorin was playing at and needed to protect Bilbo from it; from the pain of betrayal that he was to face.

His slender hand patted Bilbo's own slightly as he smiled and said, "It is true dear Bilbo, all of it. Why would we need to lie to you? We only wish to protect you from harm and that means from any potential threats, including the dwarrow."

"But I signed a contract. I have to see them reach the Mountain," he said looking into Thranduil's eyes for understanding. He found none.

"You may have signed a contract with them but who is to say they won't double-cross you? If they reach the Mountain will they not let out the Fire Drake Smaug to destroy us all!?"

"I-I I don't-"

"You will die in the process! I will not let another die because of my foolishness again! Dear Bilbo, you must understand, no you  ** _will_**  understand," Thranduil said as he grabbed Bilbo by the shoulders. His blue eyes burning a hole inside Bilbo's soul as he stared unblinking into them, and the little hobbit could feel himself wither under such a gaze.

The King's eyes were glazed over with an emotion he couldn't even start to comprehend and said, "Okay." The blonde gave a breath of relief and smiled brightly at the hobbit, his blue eyes now filled with happiness and relief. Bilbo only smiled back at Thranduil and allowed the elf to tell him a tale of King Oropher, his father. The man who had discovered the first hobbit in the East, and as he got absorbed into the long story.

His reluctance to give into the elf immediately did not go unnoticed, and after that day the elves' efforts to make him as content as possible skyrocketed. Bilbo's injuries were healing at fast-paces, something that never happened to him before finding himself in the care of the Elves of Mirkwood. Before Bilbo knew it, it was the second week he was there and Legolas had told him it was Mirith-En-Gilith. A feast in honor of starlight, and it sounded like a truly marvelous thing.

The spider bite on his stomach was scabbed over and most of his injuries that he gained during the Journey were healed up.

Over the days he noticed things, things that shouldn't happen to a respectable hobbit; and it baffled him to no end. Bilbo found his ears were sharper and the hair on his feet was thinning slightly, that by itself mortified him to no end. Tauriel had accidentally slighted him by pointing it out and Bilbo just rambled for minutes about how he was being less and less the respectable hobbit he once was.

The next thing was the fact that his skin had taken on a pearly hue and he had lost all of the tan that he proudly gained. Despite all the reassuring complements he received from Thranduil, Legolas, and Tauriel Bilbo felt as if he was losing his hobbitness. The hobbit didn't know if he truly was a hobbit at this point, but he refused to loose the last thing he had to connect him to his home.

His Shire clothing had been beyond repair and the ring was lost somewhere in the Mirkwood. Bilbo gave his home away to Drogo and Primula in the event he never came home, and well being a Hobbit was the last thing connecting him to the Shire.

Bilbo Baggins was losing his grip, there was absolutely no way he was going to let this happen to him. He wouldn't loose the lost thing he had in his life, and with heavy heart he awoke everyday.

Each day loosing a piece of what made Bilbo Baggins, well, Bilbo.

Each day the Elves were rejoicing at the hobbit that was integrating into their society seamlessly.

~.~.~.

"Quite a party you have going on up there," Kili remarked dryly as Legolas passed him. The elf stopped in his tracks and smiled to himself before turning to the young dwarf.

"Well of course! It is Mirith-En-Gilith, a feast of starlight. If anything wood-elves love the light from stars the most," the prince explained to Kili.

"I always thought it was a distant light, cold and remote."

"We are entitled to our own thoughts, Master Dwarf."

Kili, who quickly got over that topic, leaned back against the back wall and tossed his stone in the air, "How is Bilbo and Fili?"

"Your brother is the same as yesterday, well fed and bored. Bilbo is still in recovery."

The dwarf prince was more than happy to tell Legolas all he knew about hobbits, but never revealed the dwarrows' true reasons for trespassing in the Mirkwood. As of such Legolas relayed to Kili the same messages, day after day; for Fili was not faring well. The golden dwarf was slowly going insane, if his current behavior exhibited anything. Fili had shown nothing but hostility to the elves after Legolas brushed him off, and had taken to singing to himself in Khuzdul to pass time. If this wasn't insanity then Legolas didn't know what was.

"Are you going to tell me why you lot were found in our forest?"

"Are you going to let me see my brother?"

"You know I cannot let you do that," Legolas said as Kili glared slightly before sighing. The elf rubbed his temples before waving a goodbye to the dwarf, he had enough of stubbornness for one day. First from his troops and then a dwarf, a good glass of wine and some good food and entertainment should do wonders in cheering him.

As he walked down to the storerooms the elf spied the post where the Keeper of the Keys was supposed to put his keys, and nearly groaned in frustration. He would not be allowed to join the feast if the keys weren't in place. "Where is the Keeper of the Keys?" he asked one of the cooks.

"I sent him to give the filth their evening meals, you should go up your Highness. Your Majesty is no doubt waiting for your arrival."

"Make sure the keys are returned to their post."

"Of course, my lord," the cooks said as the prince took his leave.

At this moment the Keeper of the Keys wasn't paying attention to where the keys were, instead he thought of the sweet wine that he and the cooks would be enjoying. It was no fair that the civilians and the royals got to party all night while the guards drew the short end of the sticks and were to forgo festivities. So he and some of the others were going to be enjoying their night like they should be allowed to. "Eat up," he snarled to a fat red-headed dwarf. The Keeper slid the tray under the cell bars and went to give the last tray to an irate blonde.

Making sure his keys were secure he left the tray close to the cell bars and in his haste to leave the cell, he never notice the weight of metal keys being lifted from his hips.

"Ready?" the cook said as he lifted two glasses in the air as soon as the Keeper walked into the storerooms.

"Yeah," he grinned.

"You lock up the dwarves?"

"Never unlocked their cells to begin with, didn't even need the keys," he boasted.

Little did they know that they had fucked up the entire night, but they wouldn't know since they drowned their duties in booze.

~.~.~.

"I can't believe it, we're in his cellars!"

"Shh! The bastards are sleeping!"

Fili was paranoid as he lead the Company down into the storeroom, and he prayed to Mahal that there would be a way out of their prison. His prayers were answered as he spied fourteen barrels ready to be sent down the river.

Fourteen.

One for each member of the Company, he thought bitterly. If only Thorin would allow him to go look for Bilbo, then they would all be able to leave as an entire Company. "He is gone Fili! I should have known the hobbit would leave us one way or another!" Thorin had told him when he suggested finding their Burglar. The worst was that most of the Company agreed!

The Ri brothers, Dwalin, Gloin, Bifur, Bombur, Oin, and Thorin were all for leaving behind the one person who wanted to help them. The one person who gave up everything to help the dwarves of Erebor gain their home, and they all turned their back on him without a second glance. Bofur tried talking Thorin into seeing reason but the Exiled King wouldn't hear of it.

"Get in the barrels," Fili whispered harshly at the others. He truly didn't want to leave without Bilbo but there was no changing his uncle's mind at this point. The Company followed his orders easily, as if he were Thorin he noted, and climbed into the barrels.

"What now?" Ori asked as he poked his head out of one of the top barrels.

"Hold onto your butts!" he pulled the lever next to the barrels and grinned as the wood under them tilted and the dwarves fell into the river below. "That was a cool thing to say, very dramatic," he grinned as he ran down the length of the floor. Fili slipped down into the river seamlessly as the elves continued to snore, and he completely missed the fuming prince who came down to retrieve his bow and arrows.

Arms and hands pulled him out of the water and into his own barrel; his uncle's approval making him feel slightly better about the entire situation. "Well done Fili!" Thorin called out from the front of the group. Balin patted Fili on the shoulder and gave him that knowing look, the one that said 'You tried laddie'. Then the ride down the river started and for a split second the Company thought they were home free.

Until the sharp sounds of a horn split the air in half.

That sound was heard by many, and that included one Bilbo Baggins.

The hobbit was allowed to sit in the window seat that overlooked the river and the riversides that day, and it was pretty serene until he saw the familiar blonde elf run down the riverside. Following barrels that floated down the river and with the enhanced eyesight that he developed during his time in the healers ward he watched as the Company left without him. He was betrayed by the very people he gave everything for.

They were right, all of them. Thranduil and Tauriel and Legolas, they were all fucking right!

"Little One? Do you wish to join the festivities?" Tauriel asked from behind him, and when he didn't answer she came up behind him. Getting a glimpse of the last barrel with the familiar white head of hair from Balin float down the river, Tauriel only gave the hobbit her sympathy. Bilbo didn't react to her hug or anything she did, nor did he notice when she left swiftly.

Bilbo did notice the long blonde hair that draped over his shoulder and the regal clothing that enveloped him into the embrace of a certain king. "I told you, dear One. Oakenshield was using you, and to him you were only a means to an end," that hypnotic voice echoed in his head. The brown curls were pressed against a clean chin as Thranduil held Bilbo.

Everything was going swimmingly, and if it continued to go this well then they would win it all.

The hobbit.

Safety from Smaug.

Many things were won when the Company of Thorin Oakenshield escaped the Mirkwood without their Burglar and it was time to rejoice in the victory. "Come Bilbo, we must get you ready," Thranduil told him as he picked up the hobbit. He lead him to his bed and settled down Bilbo before retrieving a small package from his chair. "I had the seamstresses make this for you, since you are the guest of honor for this night's feast," and he sat down after handing the gift to Bilbo.

Inside was some of the most beautiful clothes he had ever seen, the styles mirrored Thranduil's clothing but had a softer tune to it. Instead of the majestic silver and grey hues Bilbo's new robes were white. It reminded him of light and the outer shawl that come with the robes were a slate color with a deep red undertone.

It was this night that Bilbo fell into the elves' sweet embrace.

And consequentially changing the fate of Middle Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Ragehappy Mavin Fan  
> (A.K.A. Rhohel_of_the_Shire)


	3. I Promise To You, My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He never really knew just how cold-hearted Thranduil had been just weeks before he had been found in their Mirkwood, and in order to keep Bilbo the elves weren't ready to let that fact go. Not a bit. Even if it meant lying to the hobbit, well it really wasn't lying at this point.
> 
> Especially if Thranduil was gradually becoming nicer under the hobbit's influence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate that you guys like this story so much! I don't have an idea on how long this might be, but I know that it covers the Battle of the Five Armies and sometime after the original story line. I couldn't find a name for Thranduil's elk so I named it myself.
> 
> (Edit: Sorry I didn't update earlier but my computer is shit and needed to be fixed for a week. Sorry!)
> 
> Paring: Bilbo Baggins/Thranduil, the Elven King of Mirkwood
> 
> Bilbo Baggins/Legolas Greenleaf
> 
> Rating: MA, can change to Explicit on AO3.
> 
> The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

It was like he was being paraded around, almost as if he were a pretty jewel to show off to the elves that had not yet met him. At this point he welcomed it freely and did not even care if he was being openly cherished, more so by Legolas and Thranduil than any others. Bilbo was quite used to being manhandled by the elves and as of now he was literally sitting in the lap of luxury.

The King of Greenwood was visibly smug as he sat at the head of a long wooden table with the hobbit in his lap, his curly head pressed firmly against his chest. Legolas sat at the right side of his father while the left side was empty, a subtle reminder that the Queen was gone. Then the nobles were next at the table, the filled out a good thirty or so seats and then the Council sat the farthest from the Royals.

"My fellow elves, I am most sorry for the earlier interruption of our feast, but please let us focus on the little joys of our lives. Let us rejoice in the memory that the stars give us and let us take pleasure from the small mercies that Eru Iluvatar has given us," Thranduil maneuvered his arms around Bilbo and took a fork. His eyes scanned the room quickly before he took the first bite, officially starting the feast.

Bilbo grabbed his own fork and ate off the smaller plate next to Thranduil's, seeing as it was placed there for the hobbit to reach easily. Living with dwarves for months had changed his eating habits, he had been used to eating meat and soup. Not much room for vegetables in the three rationed meals a day, so he was getting used to the salads that the elves were fond of.

Throughout the entire room there was the peaceful sounds of cutlery clanging softly on dish and the soft conversations that were going on. Servants bustled back and forth, refiling goblets with wine and slowly taking empty plates from people. Above him he could hear Thranduil talk to Legolas in Sindarin about something that was either very lackluster or very tedious. After a lovely entree of smoked salmon Bilbo was full and rested in the warm lap of the King. Every now and then he would notice people looking at him.

So he sat there, like a perfect doll and was engulfed in warmth from the King behind him; very aware of the stares aimed his way form other elves. His curly hair was weighed down by a small silver circlet and in the lap of the King he looked like he belonged there; dressed in the silks of royalty. It gave the hobbit a sense of security he hadn't felt since the seeds of doubt had been placed in his head by Legolas and Thranduil.

He had been alone for so long, and it felt good to be wanted and needed again.

Every now and then he would be politely introduced to an elf or a couple, but other than that he only talked to the royal family. After many different courses that could put even the most grand hobbit dishes to shame music started to play. It was lyrical and beautiful as he watched couples take to a dance floor and were so graceful that they fluidly moved along. As if they were merely gliding across the floors and never once touched it.

"What do hobbits like to do in their spare time Bilbo?" Legolas inquired as he relaxed in his chair with a glass of wine in hand. The prince was doing his best to keep Bilbo in conversations, hoping that the hobbit was having a good time. Thranduil had taken to lightly talking with other elves as Bilbo chatted with Legolas, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. His hand absently stroking his hair, careful not to mess with the delicate circlet resting on the curls.

Then without warning he felt himself get pulled into Thranduil's arms before being carefully passed to Legolas; a worried archer stood behind the King's chair. Looking to Thranduil he saw a look of anger on his face, well to be honest anger didn't describe this. It was like pure fury and Bilbo was actually afraid of the usually gentle elf; to seek protection from the elf he sank into Legolas. His head resting against the elf's neck as Legolas cradled him tenderly.

"Ada, please calm down," the Prince whispered as he nodded his head in the direction of the other elves.

However, he did nothing of the sort.

"Banishment is her punishment! If any are to see her in our woods again then strike her dead," he said to the archer before dismissing him. His long fingers grasped at his arm rests as he tried to calm himself down, if only for Bilbo's sake. The hobbit was getting wary of the king as he sat himself down and regained his composure, his honey eyes darting back and forth between Thranduil and Legolas. "I'm sorry for loosing my temper," he said to the table.

"Apology accepted your Highness," they replied.

He eyed the King a bit before conceding that if it was truly important than he would tell him, and it pleased Bilbo greatly that he was trusted enough with all this information. Even Legolas told him things that he found the Prince never truly tell others, not even Tauriel was told some of these things. The thing that got Bilbo the most was that Thranduil had told him of his deceased wife, although he never mentioned her name directly.

It was just the other day when the King had opened up at Bilbo's inquiries of a Queen, and not only did regret and sorrow flash across his face but there was acceptance. Thranduil had accepted his wife's death and even though it disheartened him, though in Bilbo's opinion that was not a bid enough adjective, he had prevailed.

"I would not change what had happened dear One," he told him just two days before the Company escaped. Thranduil had pulled the hobbit into his lap and smiled as he let the King brush his hair. "If I had then where would we be today? Even if I miss her, and there are days I miss her dearly, but going through that trauma and coming out a better person," he whispered into Bilbo's ear that bright afternoon.

"Was it hard?" he asked.

"It is not easy dear Bilbo, and I will not lie to you. I almost Faded from this world, but it was with my strength I prevailed," pressing a soft kiss to the sun kissed curls on his head. Bilbo had settled into the warmth behind him serenely and smiled at the time; the hobbit was falling farther into the spider's web and was not minding it at all.

"What was she like?"

"I can't dare to describe her, just like I can't even begin to describe you," and the two had spent time lazily overlooking the Forest River. Of course Thranduil had to go back to his kingly duties and then Legolas took his spot. Yes, he was irrevocably caught in the web that the elves made around him, and he would not even try to struggle against it.

At the time Bilbo had said that he would come back after going with the Company, after fulfilling his contract of course. He was a hobbit of his word and would do as he said he would.

Then the Company had left without him and he accepted his fate, that he was to forever stay with the Mirkwood Elves.

Now he happily sat with royalty and soaked up the attention he had been devoid of for a long time; he had not felt this adored and loved since his parents had died in the Fell Winter. Legolas had braided his hair lightly as Bilbo was given some desert, which the hobbit then shared with the Prince and the King. Bilbo gladly shared the pound cake with the two and lightly sang along with the music.

"Do you know any songs Bilbo?" Legolas asked him.

"I know drinking songs that my Took relations knew as well as the more refined songs from my Baggins side," it had been a hard time trying to explain to the scribes his large family tree. The only thing Bilbo didn't do was tell the location of the Shire and the elves were fine with that so long as he supplied them with more information. That had truly been a nightmare.

"A pray tell some of the songs," Thranduil smiled gently as he calmed his posture down. The others in the room had begun to settle at the mention of the hobbit singing and Bilbo flushed prettily at them.

"Are you sure?" and he was met with enthusiastic nods from all and let Legolas set him on the table. His large feet touching smooth cloth and all eyes were now on him if they weren't before. "My Dad had called this Demelza's Song," he said as he cleared his throat and all fell silent.

"I'd a pluck a fair rose for my love

I'd a pluck a red rose blowin'

Love's in my heart, i'm tryin' so to prove

What your heart's knowin'..." his voice was soft as it drifted through the large room. All the elves were watching him with a nice, relaxed posture as he sang and the harp in the background was not helping the elves stop their unconscious slouch. Bilbo closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking back up with his honey eyes.

"I'd a pluck a finger on a thorn

I'd a pluck a finger bleedin'

Red is my heart, wounded and forlorn

And your heart needin'," his eyes flashing over Legolas and Thranduil's forms briefly before going back over to the others in audience.

"I'd a hold a finger to my tongue

I'd a hold a finger waitin'

My heart is sore, until it joins in song

With your heart matin'," he dragged out the last syllables slightly before looking at his feet while the elves clapped. This ears tinged red with embarrassment as Legolas helped him off the table.

"That was beautiful Bilbo," Legolas beamed and behind him Thranduil mirrored that expression. He never really knew just how cold-hearted Thranduil had been just weeks before he had been found in their Mirkwood, and in order to keep Bilbo the elves weren't ready to let that fact go. Not a bit. Even if it meant lying to the hobbit, well it really wasn't lying at this point.

Especially if Thranduil was gradually becoming nicer under the hobbit's influence.

~.~.~.

The days passed in relative ease and he was allowed to leave the healer's ward completely; though he had a guard follow him wherever he went and it got slightly annoying sometimes. Bilbo was allowed to go anywhere he pleased and met all kinds of elves, and enjoyed talking to them. Though the circlet on the top of his had others looking cautious as he did so.

The elflings had no problem with Bilbo and he had no problem with them; often indulging to play with them while Legolas and Thranduil attended to their duties. Tauriel hadn't been able to visit him as much as she and he would have preferred but every other day she would come by.

A week had passed him by and he spent his time in the library and kitchens or strolling the gardens with Legolas or Thranduil. His time in the Mirkwood was going good so far, bar the little meltdown Thranduil had during the feast. Tauriel had told him that one of the female archers was seen running after the Company, and her punishment was banishment.

With the promise of death if any of the Mirkwood elves see her, she added as a second thought.

Bilbo was sure that they wouldn't be as cruel to do such a thing, but the look on Tauriel's face gave him another thought on the matter. Sure he wasn't an elf and he was learning their customs just as much as they were learning his; though they were wise beings so surely they could see the fault in taking a life. However, he did remember what Beorn had said about the Elves of Mirkwood.

After being in their company for some time he deduced that he was wrong to judge them quickly, since they had been kind to those who deserved it and harsh to the ones that abused their forest and surroundings. Bilbo had long forgotten which category he belonged to or, if at all, he was an exception to them by him being a child of Yavanna.

One that dwelled to purify the earth itself and lived in harmony with the land.

They had concluded that such a being could hold not be malcontent, nor could he be malevolent.

In other words he was everything the elves had grown up hearing about, the little beings that pattered around their holes and healing the earth with their songs. A smile on their face as they went about with their day and a love for good food. Some elflings whispered about that if there was one then there was more to be found, and Bilbo put that idea down in its tracks. Softly saying to their ears, "We are not some possessions to be hoarded, we're just like you. We have families and friends, but most importantly we have feelings."

"Then why did you come here?"

He smiled ruefully that day and pushed back his past firmly, "Not everyone of us has those things I told you about. I was one of them." A small girl sat by his large feet and looked up with innocent brown eyes.

She asked him quietly, "You don't have friends, or a family, or feelings?"

"I do have feelings, but I lost most of my family and friends long ago."

"Why?" the little elf asked and he only pulled her into a hug.

"I hope you'll never know," what he didn't know was that Legolas was watching his hobbit interact with the elflings when he heard this. His heart felt for the poor hobbit and he decided then and there that he would be his family from now on. While he hoped it would be on a deeper level, Legolas would be perfectly happy with the notion of being a friend.

Thranduil on the other hand would not stop at being a friend, no his ultimate goal was to be more than friends to the honey eyed beauty. The King would stop at nothing to have Bilbo Baggins as his Consort, everyone else be damned. He would allow certain privileges to his son, but in the end he would not belong to Legolas. That was a line he would not allow his son to cross, no matter how much he loved him.

Either way there would be one victor and he planned on being it.

Then came the problem of the dwarves, what if they did manage to get to Erebor and by some miracle kill the dragon? What would the Elves do against the Dwarves if they wanted Bilbo back? They technically gave up all claim to him when they omitted him from their escape, but then again Aule's children were greedy beings. Those wretched creatures took what they thought was theirs and have even fought wars over the most minuscule things.

While he highly doubted they would find a way in the mountain, much less a way to slay a dragon; there was still some room for caution.

Then came the report that the town of Esgaroth had been seen engulfed in flames and a dead carcass was seen beginning to rise.

They had managed to find a way into Erebor and Thranduil was not a greedy man, far from it he had proved as he ordered for carts to be loaded with provisions. No he found this most opportunist in his favor, while helping the men of Esgaroth he would get back his wife's gems.

Then proceed to drape them across Bilbo's small frame.

In the end this wasn't for his personal gain, while it would help his cause.

As a sort of advantage he decided to bring his son and Bilbo with him to the ruins of Dale, well when he explained it to Bilbo he said something along the lines of it being 'good will'. It was actually to show off the hobbit.

So he found himself on his precious elk with his precious hobbit in front of him while Legolas trotted next to him on a magnificent white horse. Tauriel leading the other members of the guard and army in the dead of night, and as Bilbo slept curled up next to his larger frame Thranduil talked to Legolas.

"At the first sign of trouble I want a perimeter set up around Bilbo, none shall even think to harm him. Much less get past the guards assigned, understood?"

"Of course Ada, though I have a bad feeling about this," and Thranduil raised his rather large eyebrows in question, prompting his son to continue. "There is an evil wind from the north, surely you have felt it as well."

"It is not in our lands so why bother?"

"Here's the thing Ada," he said while turning his head to his father, "I fear something will come and raise our lands to the ground."

"Nonsense Legolas, I assure you our home is well protected," Thranduil promised as he subconsciously ran his fingers through Bilbo's curls.

Liking very much how the hobbit curled into his hand, yes he had made sure their land was safe for Bilbo.

Though he couldn't promise the safety of other lands.

As he had said once he shall say it again and this time for Legolas to hear, "Other lands are not my concern, but my land and those who live in it are."

~.~.~.

It was the early morning when Bilbo awoke, his head pressed against Thranduil's front when he raised it to look into the sky. His hands rubbed at his eyes as he felt the smooth gait of the elk underneath him. "Good morning Bilbo," Legolas chirped from beside him.

"Mornin' Legolas," he mumbled back as he tried, and failed, to stop a yawn.

Thranduil looked down at Bilbo briefly and gave him a small smile before returning his gaze to the road, they had previously stopped while Bilbo slept and he had sent the army to stand by Dale and wait for his arrival. The horses that pulled the carts were given their chances to rest and refresh, and his own elk had taken the time to relieve itself of the two beings on his back. "Calm Thiadon," he said as he carefully maneuvered himself and Bilbo off the elk.

His haughty elk merely gave him a glance before going off to drink water and do what elks do.

Now his elk was trotting along a path that hadn't been walked for ages, not since the days of old and Erebor had been dragonless. As well as under King Thror's rule, which had not ended well for anyone in his opinion, and Dale had prospered under Girion's care. It brought back memories of when he went to visit the human city every now and then. He now tread it again, though this time he was prepared for war and it was not an easy path to walk.

No doubt that the men of Esgaroth would be surprised to see a golden army on their doorstep, though he was sure that they would arrive in time to explain the situation.

"Good morning Bilbo," he greeted pleasantly as he guided Thiadon carefully down the time-worn road.

"Good morning Thranduil," Bilbo replied as he stretched slightly in the large elven saddle. His smaller arms were engulfed in the thick outer robe that Thranduil put on him when they left Mirkwood. Legolas grinned at the sight of his curls being disheveled and laughed at the sight Bilbo made; the hobbit's circlet was lopsided and his robes were wrinkled.

Bilbo, having seemed to notice what Legolas was laughing at, was absolutely mortified at his less than respectable state of attire; to which Thranduil told him that they would have to fix it in Dale. Though it did nothing to stop Bilbo from trying to tame his curls and right the circlet and put it back into its original position.

Key word was tried, but he did look much better than when he woke up.

Then the convoy of elves came to the top of a rather large hill overlooking the once prosperous lands of Erebor and Dale, now charred and desolate. There was nothing green there, and the forests surrounding the Lonely Mountain were barren. The once fertile fields that at one time yielded good crops had been reduced to nothing more than burnt hills.

"This is the Desolation of Smaug," Thranduil whispered to Bilbo as he urged the convoy on.

If someone looked at Bilbo's eyes in the dawn's soft light they would have seen tears gather at the sight. Those honey eyes were filled with tears for the once fertile lands and he whispered a quick prayer to Yavanna, praying that the land would be renewed in time. He sincerely hoped that the Green Lady would restore what used to be there and repair the damage done to her earth.

Bilbo moved his gaze to the ruins of Dale and nearly lurched in horror, while he could see the golden armor of the elven army he could see the fires that were slowly extinguishing in the city. People were huddled around another and froze silently, accepting their fates before they truly fought for it.

Time passed him by as he took in his surroundings and the suffering of the earth underneath Thiadon; it hurt to think of all the people that died in these lands. It was natural that he felt the way he did, and this was similar to the poisoned woods of Mirkwood. Though these lands were in a hibernation-like state while the forests were screaming out to be cleansed of their infection.

When he finally looked up they were passing through the gates of the once great city and he looked into the faces of starving men, women, and children all around him. Bilbo took deep breaths as Thranduil spoke to the man who seemed to be in charge, and as people brushed his feet in their desperation for food he felt like he was going to be sick.

In.

Then out.

In.

Then out.

It still didn't help that the ones that had gotten their fill were staring at him in curiosity, and he wrinkled his nose in distaste when he heard the tell-tale noises of someone who couldn't take the food in their stomachs.

Please, stop; no more, please.

"This is the cause of dwarven greed Bilbo," and Bilbo turned his head to look at the Prince next to him.

"What?"

"If they had not delved too deep in their mountains then Smaug would have never been enticed by their treasures," Legolas said as he looked at the buildings towering over them. "I had friends in the city that were killed when the dragon came, their voices silenced by the greed the dwarves reaped. Never to speak nor laugh again," and he smiled ruefully at Bilbo.

"I'm sorry," and Legolas shook his head.

"It is not a fault of yours."

"I helped the dwarves though," he began but was cut off by the man that had been talking to Thranduil.

His brown eyes were alight in fury as he stared at Bilbo from his perch on Thiadon, "You helped those wretched dwarves?" He shifted into Thranduil's embrace when he heard the man nearly growl at him.

"I did-"

"Do not talk that way to him Bard, you may be an ally but I will not stand for someone harming Bilbo. In any way, shape, or form," Thranduil snapped at the man before calming the hobbit in front of him.

Bard cleared his throat in embarrassment before coming out with a tightly gritted apology, "I am sorry Master Bilbo, but those dwarves caused me to lose my daughter."

"May I give my condolences," the hobbit replied softly, not yet warming up to the Man.

"Thank you, Sigrid gave her life for that of the blonde dwarf. She died pushing him and my youngest into a boat, they owe me everything," he seethed.

"And you will get it Bard, I assure you," Thranduil cut in before Bilbo could say anything. He then ordered a nearby elf to get tents set up as well as men ready to join the upcoming fight. Legolas nodded at Bard before guiding his horse to follow Thiadon up to where they would set a strategic tent. Overlooking what would be the battlefield, and to Bilbo it was more than just a piece of land.

It was were people lived and thrived, where people ran and died, where people would fight to be slaughtered.

"People are going to die," he told Thranduil as he looked out to the Lonely Mountain, where those damned dwarves hid.

"Yes," he was brutally honest to Bilbo.

Thranduil pressed a kiss to the top of his head and hugged the hobbit to his chest, and said oh so softly. Almost to where Bilbo didn't hear it.

"I won't let you die my Love," he gave another kiss to the top of his head.

"This I swear."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I'm really happy that you guys are responding well to this story, and I don't really know how long it will be. Just a little heads up.
> 
> Ragehappy Mavin Fan  
> (A.K.A Rhohel_of_the_Shire)


	4. A Matter of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The seeds that Thranduil and Legolas carefully planted and cultivated were starting to sprout.
> 
> It was only a matter of time before they reaped the fruit of their labor, and he couldn't wait for the day that happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone messaged me and asked if I could put down the meanings of the elven names I'm using. I guess I can, if that's what you guys want.
> 
> I'm so happy that so many people actually like this story! Thanks a lot you guys!
> 
> Paring: Bilbo Baggins/Thranduil, the Elven King of Mirkwood
> 
> Bilbo Baggins/Legolas Greenleaf
> 
> Rating: MA, its starting to get closer and closer to Explicit for AO3
> 
> The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

An elegant smirk flitted across his face as the flaps of his tent were spread open and an irate wizard came strolling in. His long blonde hair covered some parts of Bilbo but for the most part it was easy to see that the Elven King was keeping hold of the hobbit. The hobbit in question was sleeping contentedly in Thranduil's arms and showed no signs of waking. However, the armed guards watching over the King were posted their to make sure none woke the hobbit from his nap.

Legolas was sitting at the small table set up in front of his father and was currently going over some maps with Tauriel, never once raising his head from his silent conversation with her. Thranduil himself was carefully moving his body to go over the reports given to him by the scouting squads he sent out after arriving in Dale, all the while trying to make sure Bilbo didn't wake.

"Thranduil! What is thi-" before he could continue with his rant five arrows had been drawn and were pointed at him in warning.

The King didn't look up from the reports but whispered, "I would rather you not raise your voice, Mithrandir." The grey man just looked at the hobbit he knew since he was just a faunt in something akin to regret. "Though you are welcome to come back later," Thranduil smirked a little as he looked down at Bilbo, "When all are ready to converse."

All five arrows lowered when Gandalf the Grey turned his back on them and exited the tent, a plan in his mind as he went. He should have known better than to leave the group at Mirkwood, maybe then he would have saved Bilbo from this fate. Or maybe if Bilbo had listened to Beorn's warning of the Elves of Mirkwood then things would have been different. If anything Beorn was right, the Elves of Mirkwood were not like their kin. They are more dangerous and less wise. This proved it: even though the Rivendell Elves wished to keep Bilbo in their peaceful city they let him leave.

The Mirkwood Elves, however, were more focused on rooting Bilbo to the woods and integrated him as deep as they could in their society. What better place to keep someone than in the King's presence?

He had to get to the dwarves and tell them of the recent happenings, and he had to do it quickly if there is any chance of salvaging Bilbo's future.

What Gandalf didn't know and what the elves did know was that was never going to happen. What he also didn't know was the elves weren't going to let him out of Dale just yet, no they were going to keep hi until he has had his meeting with the King. If only so Thranduil could rub it in his nose that Bilbo was his, and would be so for a long time. They had made it so that Bilbo would live out decades without changing a bit, and it might even be centuries before he shows any signs of aging.

Bilbo Baggins had become a hobbit stuck in time with the first goblet of elven blood that ran down his throat.

Said Bilbo was now dreaming peacefully in Thranduil's arms and the King was content to sit there and pat his head while he read the reports. His blue eyes narrowing slightly when he read from a squad leader's paper that the dwarves had barricaded themselves in the mountain. Forcing them to stay in and wait out the armies, but they armies had something that the dwarves didn't.

Food.

Without food they'll wither and starve to death, with only their precious gold to witness it and from their anyone could take their valuable mountain. He smiled softly, those stupid dwarrow just didn't think anything through did they? They were dumb enough to leave a treasure as precious as Bilbo and now they create such an opportunity for them to be forced into an agreement.

The Line of Durin was never a smart one, in fact Thranduil felt as if it was one of the more inferior of the Dwarven race. His views on the Dwarrow were not the fairest, but he felt as if they were accurate.

Another thing that the scouts had found was the fact that there was always at least one or two dwarves on guard at the top of their makeshift battlements. Though the youngest dwarf with the bow and arrow was seen there more than most. This was definitely useful information if her was to use this to their advantages.

Once more he looked up when the tent flaps moved and allowed a slight draft in the tent, but instead of cryptic wizards it was Bard and his remaining children. The two were young and a little taller than Bilbo and they were forlorn; something that he could hardly stand seeing in children. The chill that Bard had created woke Bilbo, who was now looking around with bleary eyes. The guards tensed and fingered their arrows until Thranduil's hand stopped them, "Bard. What brings you by here?"

The bowman looked tired as did his children, "I need to leave my children with you while I go scouting with Narendor (Didn't use a name generator) and his squadron."

"Of course, by all means this is no imposition."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, when you are done please have Narendor send me his AAR (A.N. after-action review). Remember Bard, shoot to kill," Thranduil ordered and Bard agreed. His gaze went to Bilbo, who was rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and nodded to him politely before taking his leave. The two children just stood there awkwardly as the elves went along with their business.

Bilbo looked over at them every now and then between his quite conversations with Thranduil before he could take it no longer. "May I? It is time for afternoon tea," Bilbo asked as he nodded discreetly to the pair and when he got Thranduil's somewhat reluctant nod he slid off the King's lap. While he missed the warmth that the elf provided he also felt guilt just looking at the children.

His bare feet padded the ground quietly as he approached the children and with a wave of his hand, something he had seen both Legolas and Thranduil do to get someone to follow them, he lead them outside. Their faces were tight with apprehension as Bilbo lead them to the royal's food tent where two she-elves were setting up a seat for Bilbo.

"Adasser (Lover of Mortal Men), Elvedui (Last Elf) please set two more places," and the two merely nodded and got two more sets ready. Bilbo's honey eyes were bright as he lead the two to their seats and with some help from Adasser he was seated. Both children were about to fill their teacups with water when Elvedui had poured fragrant tea into the cups.

"Sugar, young master?" Adasser asked the boy and he accepted. The same happened to the little girl who declined but took hers with some cream, and then small teacakes were placed on the wooden table. Bilbo didn't look fazed when he heard the growl of their hungry stomachs and waved Adasser over.

"Get some finger sandwiches for the two along with a small bowl of broth, poor things look starved."

"Of course Little Master, should I send some food to his Highness and Prince Legolas?" she asked quietly and when Bilbo nodded she relaxed a little. "If you are kind enough to oblige, my little sister is hoping for a story later about your horrid relatives."

"The Sackville-Baggins?"

"Yes, Faervel (Strong Spirit) is anticipating your stories along with the other elflings," and behind her Elvedui nodded along with what the young she-elf was saying.

"My son, Lumornor (Tree Shade), is looking forward to it as well Little Master."

Who was he to say no?

"Of course, if it is not too much trouble for anyone-"

"You never cause anyone grief or inconvenience!" both cried out.

"If you insist, but for now please get some more food for- Pardon me! I never once asked for your names!" he exclaimed and startled the youngest one slightly. Her eyes were large and she quickly put down the teacup. A small peep came from her mouth when her brother almost broke his cup with the amount of force he used to bring it down.

His curly hair was sweating as Bilbo looked at the two of them expectantly as the young girl spoke up after getting over her initial shock, "I'm Tilda and this is Bain."

"It is nice to meet you two," Bilbo cheerfully responded, "I am Bilbo Baggins, at your service."

Bain was a little apprehensive but it changed when appropriate food was placed in front of him and Tilda, they chowed down on the food given while Bilbo picked at his cake. A nice silence settled on the three as they ate and as Adasser and Elvedui cleaned up between the three. When the children could eat no more Bilbo felt as if the ice between them was broken when Tilda asked for a story.

Little did they know it was the calm before the storm.

~.~.~.

None heard him loose his grip and fall into the icy waters below him, but never once did he let go of the precious package in his arms. Despite the tremors that ran through his body, the poor dwarf kept stumbling towards the warmth that the fires reflected. Dale was a beacon for him, as the cold water dripped from his sodden blonde hair.

A sneeze ripped through his body and nearly sent him to his needs; he really wished that his grip on that rope was tighter. Since the cold had sunk into his bones before he was even halfway to the city.

Fili regretted everything; he regretted leaving Bilbo to the slaughter (metaphorically of course), leaving that poor girl to die, and letting the madness sink further and further into his uncle's mind. At this point he was regretting leaving Ered Luin all together, the safety of home and the peace that his mother instilled into their home. He missed the rough furs of his bed and the sweet smell of smelting silver, not to forget th-

An arrow pierced the air and sunk quietly into his shoulder.

His body stopped mid-stride and was still as another plunged into his leg and a last falling short of his feet. A choked gasp flew from his lips as a squad of the Tall Folk swiftly made their way towards him.

Why did he not bring Kili with him?

Oh yeah, his brother had fallen to the lust of gold and him being a goldsmith by trade it didn't help him much. Fili was better off as a silversmith, since Thror had been more focused to the gold instead of the abundant silver veins. There was mostly gold in the treasure hoard and not much silver, but at this point Fili was rambling in his mind to forget the pain coursing through his body.

"Its the dwarf prince," he knew that voice but he couldn't quite place it.

"He has something in his hands," no. They couldn't take it from him, this was his last chance to save all of his family.

"What is it?"

Fili was too far gone to tell them to stop, and his glazed over eyes were trying in vain to focus on the people above him. He wanted nothing more than to get them to stop, or at the very least be back in Erebor. "King's orders were to shoot to kill," Bard said, and Fili's eyes widened in recognition.

Bard was going to kill him for his daughter's revenge; he wasn't going to live past this night. Mahal have mercy on his soul and send him to the Halls of his Ancestors.

"No, he is Oakenshield's kin. Bring him with us, Erthor (Uniter)."

"Of course Captain Narendor."

Then he blacked out and he wasn't sure how long he was asleep; nor was he aware of anything that was happening around him. So when he awoke he was surprised to find himself staring into familiar honey eyes. The eyes that had haunted his dreams for many a week, and tears sprung to the brilliant blue orbs.

"Bilbo!" and he lurched forward to give the hobbit a hug, but was cut off when his neck was suddenly being strangled.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you nawag," a venomous voice called from behind him.

Though he wasn't even feeling that, he was more worried about the fact that the hobbit was being lead away from him. Right to two very elegant elves he recognized easily enough, and both Legolas and Thranduil opened their arms to welcome Bilbo into their embrace. "Wha?" he asked dumbly, he couldn't understand.

Why was he with them? Didn't he know what the elves had done to the Company?

He watched dumbfounded as Bilbo was pulled into the Prince's lap and relaxed the second he was basically engulfed by the taller one's hair. He couldn't help but to notice how perfectly the hobbit fit into the crook of Legolas' neck.

Betrayal flooded through him, replacing the pain he had felt before.

That was when he became aware of the sweat on his brow and his labored breathing; had he gone through all this for nothing? Fili had been so sure that he was going to be able to bargain for Bilbo's freedom as well as gain an ally for Thorin. Now he wasn't so sure about that plan, hell he wasn't sure if he was going to go back to Ered Luin.

That scared him shitless.

"Fili, kin to Thorin Oakenshield, you stand before the man whose daughter died for your sake. Answer with honesty or don't answer all lest you wish for an arrow to the throat," Fili could have growled at Thranduil if it weren't for the arm around his neck. Bard stepped up from the shadows and looked to Fili with fire in his eyes.

For a second he thought he was staring at Smaug himself.

"Why have you come?"

"To do what my kin has not," he breathed out heavily. When had the air felt so suffocating? It felt as if Bombur was sitting on his chest, and it must have showed by the look of worry on Bilbo's face. His kind disposition made it hard for others not to give into his wishes of properly healing the dwarf. and Thranduil begrudgingly let a healer make a brew of tea for Fili.

Though as they waited for it answers would be answered.

"How did your kin survive the orc pack trailing after you?" Bard seethed out as he glared down at Fili.

"Barhador (One Faithful to Home) assisted us, but she never went back to the woods. She just roamed the Desolation," and he paused to drink from the foul tea, "and returned to heal Kili."

Thranduil grew rigid at the mention of one of his most faithful captains, well ex-captain more like it. "She is no longer the One Faithful to Home, now she is Erwarth in the eyes of our people. She is naught but a Lone Betrayer and will remain so for the end of her days." All elves looked impassive at the proclamation of their once dear friend's old name, but they all knew that she had betrayed the Greenwood in the worst of ways.

None disobeyed the King and lived to see another day unscathed.

Well, there was always an exception to the rule and Bilbo Baggins was one of them. The other being the Prince, but sometimes even he wasn't safe from Thranduil's wrath.

"Where is Erwarth now?"

"I don't know."

Legolas, who had been sitting and contemplating the entire situation, shifted Bilbo slightly before speaking up, "Be as it may, she is gone. Though here you are, tell us what have you to give that your kin cannot?" Then the air was stilled and Fili was nearly hyperventilating at this point, the fucking tea was not helping his nerves though it did wonders for his fever.

This was it, he might as well be out with it, "I wished to pay the debt my uncle had turned his back on!"

Thranduil raised his eyebrow and raised from his seat, "And you intend to pay it with what?"

"With this," and the Captain of the squad that found him stepped forward and presented Thranduil with the package he nearly risked hypothermia for. The King took the package with a nod of thanks to Narendor and placed it on the table in front of Legolas and Bilbo. Allowing them to get a glimpse of what was about to transpire, and with his back turned to Fili he began to remove the grimy wraps from the object underneath.

His eyes widened when he stared into the shining brilliance of the Arkenstone and when he looked back at the dwarf with something akin to disbelief Fili nearly smirked. Nearly being the key word there, since he was getting very lightheaded at this point.

"You wish to repay the debt owed to both Esgaroth and the Greenwood?"

"I was not aware of the debt to the Greenwood," he shot back. There had been no mention of any debt towards the elves, Balin was close-lipped about it and Thorin would have a heart-attack if he had dared mentioned elves near him. Now he was sure that Thorin would kill him for mentioning such a thing. Once he let that slip out of his mouth Fili was sure it was the wrong thing to say.

"Of course the dwarves would not mention such a thing to you, since the animosity your race have shown can blind the eyes of the young. There has been a debt, ever since I commissioned fine gems to be made into a necklace a few decades back," he began and Legolas hugged Bilbo tighter. His blue eyes were downcast in the remembrance of his mother, and Bilbo provided him with a comforting sense of security. "My wife had asked me centuries before her untimely demise, 'When will you have it made?' and I would tell her 'A day, a week, a month, a year even! We have all the time in the world for me to get it for you!' and she would smile.

"When she died I had held onto the jewels for a few more centuries, before going through with her wish. Only to have Thror claim them as tribute to the King Under the Mountain, and him rub it in my nose that there was naught a thing I could do unless I risked open war," and he placed the stained cloths back over the jewel.

Fili was shell shocked; there had never been such a tale that had touched his heart so! "M-my kin did that?" he asked mainly to himself. Though he was answered by Thranduil's pitying nod. "Then let this pay for that! One precious treasure for another!" Fili was sure this was the right thing to do.

Even if it made him a betrayer in his uncle's eyes.

A mutual consensus from Bard and the other elves had the King accepting the generous offer; though he may have embellished the tale a little too much since Bilbo was wiping tears from his eyes. As he ordered Narendor to get a box to put the jewel in, the flaps opened once more and Gandalf stepped into the tent once more.

"Thranduil, I have waited long enough for answers! Will someone please explain why you have my burglar?!"

The look he got in return was almost patronizing.

~.~.~.

"Is he going to be alright Adasser?"

"Of course Little Master, the King is a man of his word. A promise made by him to heal your nawag friend will be seen through," the patient elf responded to Bilbo as she cleaned Fili's wounds thoroughly.

Soon after Gandalf had barged into the King's tent he had not only managed to piss off the King, but he got threatened at arrow point to lower his voice. Then he was calmly escorted out of the tent and into a secured courtyard were only the King and wizard could speak. Bilbo was allowed to go with Fili if Adasser or Elvedui was with him the entire time. Legolas wanted it so that Bilbo's safety would be ensured at all times, and secretly between the elves only to make sure that Fili didn't try to lure Bilbo away from them.

The blonde was trying so hard to stay conscious but his body was telling him to sleep; his eyes were just so tired as was his mind. Then he felt a cool cloth touch his head and opened an eye as wide as he could to see Bilbo, with that damned elvish circlet, pat the sweat off his head.

"I'm sorry Bilbo," his voice was so soft that if it had not been for his enhanced hearing, Bilbo would have never heard Fili. "I tried to go find you, but Thorin wouldn't let me."

"Fili-"

"AHH!" and Bilbo looked to Adasser, whose fingers were coated in red blood and in between her pointer and middle finger was an arrowhead. Though it effectively made Fili pass out and Bilbo sighed.

Fili must have said that to make him feel better; everyone had told him countless times not to trust the dwarrow since they didn't trust him. They sugar coated lies and filled his head with false promises. Thranduil and Legolas had lived long enough to know the true nature of Mahal's children, and through his own eyes he had seen that the dwarves will betray. No matter what they said or what they did; he knew that if he trusted another dwarf he would be betrayed.

The elves had helped him see that fact.

He owed it to the elves for saving him, for he had no doubt that Thorin and the Company would have sent him into Smaug's lair and leave him for dead. If he had managed to live against the odds then Bilbo was sure they would send him back in to find the thrice-damned Arkenstone.

"When he wakes tell Thranduil or Legolas, but for now please escort me back to my tent if you would be so kind Elvedui," and the brown haired woman nodded and stuck her hand out for Bilbo to take. With a small smile he did and then they began the trek back to the royal tents; any elves spotting them gave the two a crisp salute.

Something that Bilbo had slowly became accustomed to.

It was weird, he would think from time to time, that the elves would hold him in such a high regard. He was aware of the fact that they had never really seen a hobbit before and spent decades playing in the woods, searching in little holes for his people. Though he was sure that there was more to the story than was being let on; there had to be a plausible reason why he was held in high esteem.

Bilbo was not dumb as well; he knew the game that Thranduil and Legolas were playing. Both were extremely protective of him as was the people of the realm even if he had no clue whom some of them were. He had been a tween once and had made those heated looks as well as been the recipient of those stares. From both the male and female population, and had been considered the most eligible bachelor of Hobbiton.

If he had taken on a husband then a third party, a surrogate of sorts, would be used to give him an heir to the Baggins family; and it was pretty obvious as to what would happen if he took a wife.

This was what was happening in the Mirkwood; though it was only from the two royals and none from the general populace. So he could only deduce that he was in the process of being courted by the two, and even if polyamory wasn't generally approved of in the Shire he didn't care anymore.

He didn't want to be alone anymore and after years of excluding himself from the other hobbits he was more than ready to join in a society that accepts him for him. And not for his title. Here he was Bilbo, a kind hobbit; there he was the heir to the Baggins family and Master of Bag End.

Thranduil and Legolas liked him for him and that was enough for the hobbit.

"Call on me if you require anything Little Master," and he looked up to see that he was at the tents and Elvedui was talking to him. Had he been thinking that long?

"Ah, yes. Of course," he smiled and the elf bowed deeply and took her leave.

Inside the tent was Legolas getting ready for bed, and his slender fingers ran through his now loose hair. Carefully removing the braids and allowing the hair to fall over his face. His armor was replaced with a silken white shirt and a cotton bed pants; he looked much more relaxed now that he was in a private setting.

While the space between the royal elves and Bilbo were none existent during the day; since the two took great measures to make it known where Bilbo belonged.

"Bilbo? Are you going to get ready for bed?" and the hobbit nodded. The blonde prince smiled at him and walked towards him; within two great strides he was in front of Bilbo. Legolas knelt before Bilbo and carefully removed the circlet from his hair before helping remove the many layers that Thranduil insisted he wear. Once Bilbo was covered only with a sheer shirt, that was practically a dress on his small frame, Legolas picked him up and set him on the large cot fit for a king, or in this case prince.

There was no expense when it came to the luxury of the royals, and so they got an actual bed with nice thick blankets and fluffy pillows.

Legolas pulled back the thick sheets and laid down before pulling the hobbit down on his chest. His head of curls tucked nicely under his chin and the small body curling into his perfectly.

The prince would not let his father keep the hobbit all to himself, and while the two weren't good on sharing things with the other they would have to. Smiling to himself Legolas pulled the sheets up to Bilbo's neck and placed a kiss to the crown of curls when he was sure the hobbit slept.

The seeds that Thranduil and Legolas carefully planted and cultivated were starting to sprout.

It was only a matter of time before they reaped the fruit of their labor, and he couldn't wait for the day that happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late updates guys, but school is starting to take up a lot of my extra time. So the update will start to get sporadic at times, but I promise I will update as soon as I could.
> 
> Ragehappy Mavin Fan  
> (A.K.A. Rhohel_of_the_Shire)


	5. He Remembered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rough stone that scraped his skin was replaced with the loving image of his late mother and father. He would smile if he had the strength to but he was completely drained.
> 
> The memories of climbing trees with his mother and studying maps with his father kept Bilbo from the pain in his wrists as the dirty rope dug into him, His outer robe flew off long ago and left him for the cold bitter air, but he replaced that with the memories of snuggling up to Old Took by the fireplace in Bag End. The pain in his head as he bounced off a wall had been shifted into that off flowers being woven into his hair by his Aunt Mirabella.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for liking this story so much guys!
> 
> Paring: Bilbo Baggins/Thranduil, Elven King of Mirkwood
> 
> Bilbo Baggins/Legolas Greenleaf
> 
> Rating: MA/E on AO3 (possibly)
> 
> The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Far too soon for his liking Bilbo was ripped from the warmth of the larger body around him. Even though Legolas tried not to wake up Bilbo by slowly leaving the cot the hobbit had woken nonetheless. His smaller frame was shaking in the cold of the Eastern Autumn air, seeing as the shirt he was wearing did nothing to help shield him from the cold.

"Good morning Little One," Legolas greeted Bilbo as the hobbit shimmied out of the bed.

"Mornin' 'Las," he mumbled as the elf picked him up.

Bilbo, even if he had just woken up, blushed furiously as the prince held him like a bride or a princess. A small settee was placed right next to his clothes chest that had been insisted he had to bring. He was put on the settee as Legolas began to look through the small chest; he pulled out a pair of silver leggings followed by a dark grey robe. After giving the clothing to Bilbo he went over to his chest and pulled out his armor and and underclothes; he knew that today there would be a showdown. Or a battle, whatever it was it was gonna happen and Legolas would be prepared.

He had to help protect his homelands as well as his hobbit, and would die doing so if that was what the cost would be. If he died then Bilbo would be in the capable hands of his father, if he lived then all would be well.

In record time Legolas had put on his underclothing and armor before moving to help Bilbo arrange himself. His swift and lithe hands had been able to button all those little buttons that Bilbo seemed to be so fond of. Then Legolas made sure that he put on a darker robe over his silver clothing, "If for some reason you are found by enemies, this might help you blend into the shadows."

He was rewarded with a bright smile for his thoughtfulness, and the elf swore his heart skipped a beat.

"Come Bilbo," and he offered his hand to the hobbit, who took it happily. Outside the tent the entire elven army was running around in an orderly manner as they prepared for the upcoming fight that was on the horizon. Legolas narrowed his eyes at Fili as he was being escorted by Adasser and Elvedui to the King's tent; Bilbo on the other hand looked torn.

Fili had been nothing but kind to him during the journey, as had Balin, Bofur, and Kili; they were sympathetic to him. Where he was unaccustomed to life on the road, they were used to it and helped him try to get used to it. Though in his fifty years of life he had never really had to ration nor did he not have a bed to sleep in; unless one were to count the Fell Winter. Then he had to ration as a tween, he slept on the floor in his parents' room; and he knew fear.

As a young hobbit of twenty he had never seen such a storm but his mother was told of stories by Old Took, of similar occurrences before her lifetime. After the first week, and much of that time was spent in his parents' room during the nights, they began to run out of food. Then Bilbo had started to get chilled easily, before he had taken to illness. His little body was racked with sickness and cold when his mother elected to leave the safety of Bag End for the help in Tuckborough. While Bungo had been skeptical of the plan he agreed when Bilbo began to cough up blood.

All he wanted was for his only child to be okay.

So with Bilbo on his back and his wife leading the way with her sword, one that Gandalf had given her for emergencies, they began the trek to Belladonna's childhood home. The Great Smials were far off and over the Brandywine River, so they assumed that there would be danger after crossing the river.

Bella and Bungo never made it to the river.

Orcs had come from nowhere and upon seeing such defenseless targets; they charged at the family. At the lead was a white orc that Bilbo remembered in his disoriented state, and he certainly remembered the fear. He was crippled with it as both Bella and Bungo ran, and he turned his head to watch their impending doom gain footage on them. Entire yards and feet were eaten up by the steady running of the wargs and orcs, then Bilbo remembered with vivid memories what came next.

"MOTHER!" he screamed with his hoarse voice that day.

Bilbo remembered the snow that clung to her long dark curls as she fell, an orcish arrow protruded through her head. The first orc that reached her wasted no time in ripping her body apart. Some had stopped to consume what used to be his kind-hearted mother, most had unfortunately kept their pursuit. Bungo cried as he ran, his large hobbit feet finally reaching the bridge over the Brandywine.

Then they were falling.

The young tween's head hit the stone cruelly, and his ears could only pick up a muffled sound and ringing. Bungo clutched at his leg where a black arrow stood out against the stone bridge. "Papa," he called out weakly and Bungo looked fearful. Not for himself but for his son; then he stood on his two legs and gather his son in his arms.

Rushing water was beneath the two and in a split decision Bungo decided Bilbo's fate, his frantic mind thinking that drowning was better than being eaten alive. "I love you so much Bilbo, your mother did too," and with one last kiss to the forehead Bungo Baggins threw his son off the bridge. Young Bilbo was doing his best to keep himself above the surface after his initial landing, but the cold chill of the water took the edge off his will.

His body drifted farther and farther away from his father; away from the carnage and pain.

He remembered not dying and being found in Buckland; half drowned and a sickening blue. He remembered being fawned over and then being passed from relative to relative until he ended up in the Great Smials. None wanted him and his grandfather was more than happy to take him in; thinking that his daughter and son-in-law would accompany young Bilbo.

Bilbo remembered being carried to his grandfather by his quiet uncles in a stretcher; he remembered him asking where his Bella was. He remembered him laying there in an unresponsive state as they asked him over and over to give any kind of answer. Tears had streamed down his face as he was kept for the rest of the horrid winter before being sent back to his empty home.

He had known fear those days, and Thorin was not the only one to loose it all to the orcs. The King Under the Mountain was not the only person to know the meaning of suffering. In fact he was letting the people of Esgaroth suffer, by not giving them their due so that they may start anew.

"Legolas, I cannot understand. How can Fili see what Thorin could not?"

The prince looked down at his hobbit and could only shrug, "Some can see beyond themselves. Maybe Durin's Line is not as weak as I perceived it to be." It was grudging to admit that but it was true. Although the dwarf was not from a direct descendant; he could still understand the fine line between a passion and obsession for gold.

It unnerved him to be so wrong about his previous conceptions of the Line of Durin.

"Come, perhaps we can scavenge some breakfast for you."

Bilbo was incredibly grateful for the support and love that he had received from the Elves and was more than happy to walk further into their embrace. He know knew the ploy they were playing and couldn't find it in him to care. All he cared about was the fact that someone wanted him again; he hadn't been wanted since he was in his twenties.

It felt great to know that someone wanted him once more.

It felt great to be loved once more.

He had no clue of the near obsession that was rising in the two royal elves.

Later Bilbo found himself sitting once more in Thranduil's lap, staring straight into Fili's eyes once more as he waited for his time. He was not ignorant enough to believe that he would not be used to their advantage. The young prince was more than sure that he would not be forgiven for this, but all he wanted was for the chance to protect his brother from war.

However, he had seen the elves and human getting ready for a fight; and knew that although he had smoothed things over they weren't going to leave it at that.

Fili regretted not going back into Mirkwood to save his friend; oh how he mourned the loss of the hobbit. He spent his days of wandering around the jewels of Erebor wondering what had become of Bilbo Baggins. Looking at the hobbit now he did not see his friend; in the place of the friendly Shireling was a puppet. Staring endlessly into his eyes, not offering any greetings or slight smiles to the golden dwarf like he once had.

This was different than the tanned skinned hobbit that rushed forward to save his uncle; Bilbo's pale parlour was striking against the dark robes he wore. The tamable curls he now sported proudly under a silver circlet were different than the wild ones he and Kili would jest about. Though in his honey eyes Fili could tell that there was a sense of contentedness that he had never seen in him.

Bilbo looked happy as he sat with his back to the chest of the Elven King of Mirkwood; it was as if he belonged there. No matter how much Fili would miss his friendship with Bilbo he was just glad that he was happy.

He had never seen him this happy so he was content to let him be.

No use trying to change a mind that won't change.

~.~.~.

They all looked so betrayed; their disbelieving faces as they looked down at Bilbo from their hastily built battlements. Kili was gripping the stone tightly as Thorin breathed harshly, and above him he could feel Thranduil clutch at him. His large hands splayed over his abdomen as the entire elven army came to a halt at the foot of the mountain. Bilbo shrank back into the King at the sight of the animosity coming from some of the dwarves; Ori most of all. The scribe looked down cruelly at Bilbo and instead of his favored slingshot; he bared a bow and arrow.

It was notched and the arrowhead was pointed right for the two.

The five closest archers near Thranduil and Bilbo immediately broke from the army to notch arrows of their own. Ready to defend their precious hobbit and king if need be.

Next to Thranduil on his left was Bard, with the wrapped Arkenstone in hand; to his right was Legolas with Fili tied up in front of him. It was discussed between all parties and with Fili's permission that he was to be used as a bargaining chip along with the Arkenstone. Though the golden dwarf was not expecting to be bound like a prisoner, so he sulked in front of Legolas.

"FILI!" his younger brother screamed, "BILBO!"

Bilbo gasped slightly when Kili called out his name and Thranduil cursed inside his mind; he was not letting one little dwarfling ruin all the careful work he created. He gave his hobbit a reassuring squeeze before glaring up at the company. "We have come to settle all grievances," he began regally. All the dwarves on the battlements tensed up as he spoke.

Thorin looked ready to murder as he watched Legolas untie the cloth around his mouth, and let Fili push out the wadded fabric from his mouth.

"But it seems that payment had already been offered...and accepted."

That set off a chain reaction that could have been avoid if things were a tad bit different, when the roar of protests from the company arose it startled Ori. Not matter how focused he may have been he accidentally let the arrow go with a loud _TWANG_. Bilbo turned to hide his head in Thranduil's chest and all five archers let their arrows fly.

Splitting the arrow before it got the chance to reach either Bilbo or Thranduil. Really they shattered it due to their precision; though the mistake on the Company's part was ever thinking of raising that bow. The Elven King nodded his head to Bard and he unwrapped the Arkenstone; holding up in a sense of victory.

"However we are more than willing to trade our payment and a certain heir for something more...material," Bard negotiated as Legolas jostled Fili to prove his point.

Thorin could only stare at the stone and looked in disbelief; his gold-sick mind connecting the dots quickly. There was no explanation for the Arkenstone to be out of the mountain, and if Fili had been captured without anyone entering Erebor then it was self-explanatory. Though he had to ask anyway, he needed to now this was not as he thought it was.

"No... how did you get that?"

All the others were just in shock; their minds quickly realizing the same thing that Thorin did.

"As I have said, payment has been offered and accepted from the Prince Fili," Thranduil growled out as the dwarves began to curse at them. He had put up with their foolishness to last him a lifetime. Though the looks of betrayal on their faces made him smirk just a bit; however his smile was wiped off his face when Kili notched another arrow and fired.

The five archers neutralized the arrow and waited for the next move.

In fact Thranduil almost wanted them to fire once more; he wanted them to give him a reason to declare an all-out war. Bilbo was trembling in front of him and it was all the King could do to keep his hobbit from bolting. "Shh, I won't let anything happen to you," he whispered under his breath. His little reassurances was the only thing keeping Bilbo from doing something he might regret.

His blue eyes quickly made their way back to the forms on the top of the battlements and he raised his right hand. Behind them hundreds upon hundreds of elven archers notched their arrows in a swift, unified movement and aimed even quicker. All of the dwarrow ducked except for the stubborn King and he merely sneered at the army.

"Do not underestimate the strength of Durin's Line!" Thorin snarled.

Thranduil was about to answer when the loud and deep horns of a dwarven army sounded in the entire valley; causing the upheaval of Thorin's Company. He turned Thiadon before racing off to the hills in which dwarves from the Iron Hills were descending. The King cut through his army quickly as he made to reach the side of his army that would first intercept the dwarves.

Ignoring the cheering of the Company behind him he made his way to where Bard's army resided, his son following him closely behind him with Bard in tow. "Good mornin' to ya!" the loud, guttural voice of Dain called out. Bilbo could only watch as the dwarf began to go on and on about how the elves and men should surrender before they started to fight.

Gandalf seemed to be taking in the humor that the little one-sided argument Dain was having with Thranduil until the wizard was brought into it. Now the Grey Wizard looked annoyed by the dwarf riding the mountain goat, and Bilbo snorted softly. Thranduil gave him a small look until he saw what Bilbo was looking at and let the briefest of smiles on his face.

Dain misinterpreted that smile and raised his war hammer high above his head.

"LETS SHOW THA' PONCY LIL' ELF WHAT HE'S MESSING WITH!" Sometimes Thranduil really doubted the intelligence of the dwarven race. He turned his head to Legolas and gave him a sharp nod; the prince swiftly cut through the bindings of a frozen Fili. The dwarven prince not saying a word since they left the front of the gates.

Hell, Thranduil was sure that the dwarf didn't even _speak_.

The advancing dwarves may have cowed the Men of Esgaroth into submission but his elves stood strong. Until the ground felt like it was shaking underneath their feet.

It was Bilbo that saw it first and his jaw dropped; his hand trembled as he pointed to the right and squeaked out. "T-Thranduil!" Bilbo looked panicked and had a very good reason to be. Giant earth-eating worms had burrowed out large holes in the sounding hills and when they retreated orcs replaced them. Everyone diverted their attention to the menaces that were starting to advance towards the three armies at fast paces.

The King looked to his son and the two shared a mutual agreement without the need to talk; they both had decided it long ago.

"Hathelas, Caladhel, Gilrin, Thilia, Haerel! Get Bilbo to safety and protect him by all means, even if it costs you your lives!" and without a second thought the King handed over the kicking hobbit. His curly haired love was trying his best to stay with the King, knowing that he would be there to protect him. The five nodded and Gilrin took Bilbo into her hold and allowed herself to be surrounded by her fellow warriors in a protective formation.

"Lets move out!" she commanded as Bilb called out for Legolas and Thranduil.

Both were ridden with guilt as they forced themselves not to rescind Thranduil's orders, and with a command falling off his lips the elven army charged after the dwarven army to their certain deaths. None would see the uncertainty on Thranduil's face as he went forward, just as none would see the regret on Legolas' face as they left Bilbo behind.

It was for the best they decided, and they would not forgive themselves if Bilbo perished on the fields of battle.

~.~.~.

Protect him to the death.

It was their orders and they took it seriously, and now Bilbo was all alone. His body was frozen with fear as he was dragged across a frozen river; they had been so clever in deciding to hide in Ravenhill. What had gone so wrong? Bilbo remembered seeing Gilrin's head be cleaved right off her shoulders and especially could vividly remember her green eyes widen as her head hit the ground. How it seemed that her mind couldn't cope with the shock before she stopped moving altogether.

Hathelas was killed first, before Thilia who was shot in the head with an orcish arrow, and he let out a small gasp when he was stuck with a dagger in his neck. It was the last breath he ever let out and it was the only way that the group could prepare for the onslaught that followed.

Bilbo had been shoved into a small niche in the rock cliffs and just as he made it in a pack of orcs jumped into his line of view, as limited as it was. He had seen Thilia fall next before Gilrin was beheaded, Caladhel was next and was impaled with a wicked looking blade. Bilbo was unable to see who held such a blade until young Haerel was disemboweled.

His guts were spilled before he died and Bilbo could only watch.

Azog stood in front of the crevice he had been forced into and he could still see some of Haerel's guts on the blade. The wicked smile on his white face as he pulled the hobbit from his hiding place kicking and screaming; dragging him to his warg without stopping to look at his new hostage. He should have and no matter how docile Bilbo grew during his stay with the Elves of Mirkwood; he would always remain vigilant after that first fateful encounter with Azog. As he was pulled past Thilia's body he nicked one of her daggers and hid it in the waistband of his leggings.

If he was going to die it would not be without a fight, he remembered thinking that.

He also remembered that someone would come to find him; Bilbo remembered that foolish hope that swelled in his chest at the time.

Now all he could remember the smiles on Legolas and Thranduil's faces a week ago. The singing that earned him a standing ovation from the high elves in the Mirkwood Council. Beautiful blooming flowers in the royal gardens that managed to stay pure from the evil settling in Mirkwood were vivid in his mind's eye. Then it wasn't enough to keep him from the fear of being tied to the back of a warg as it scaled an abandoned tower.

The rough stone that scraped his skin was replaced with the loving image of his late mother and father. He would smile if he had the strength to but he was completely drained.

The memories of climbing trees with his mother and studying maps with his father kept Bilbo from the pain in his wrists as the dirty rope dug into him, His outer robe flew off long ago and left him for the cold bitter air, but he replaced that with the memories of snuggling up to Old Took by the fireplace in Bag End. The pain in his head as he bounced off a wall had been shifted into that off flowers being woven into his hair by his Aunt Mirabella.

Now he was rudely jerked from his dreams when Azog had jumped off his white warg and untied him from the saddle. He was dragged to a small wooden beam and strung up, though it did give him a view of the frozen wastelands and thee battle going on bellow. In the distance Bilbo saw a familiar elf running around and desperately evading a similar white orc that looked a lot like Azog.

He could call out to Legolas but he would be run through with the same blade that killed his little protection detail.

Bilbo was going to die and no matter how much Legolas and Thranduil tried to prevent it, he was going to die. The only thing that ran through his head at that point was that Azog was snarling at him in Black Speech.

"Speak in Westron filth!" he growled back but grimaced when he was struck with a rusting chain.

"Is this little Elven Whore going to make me?" the orc replied in slow but steady Westron.

"Just did," and despite the bleeding gash across his right eye Bilbo smirked. He refused to let it leave his as the tip of Azog's sword-arm met his Adam's Apple; instead he spat in his face.

Though there was only so much that an orc would allow his prisoner to get away with. Azog was not known for his patience and mercy; he was known for being brutal and murdering innocents. He slashed the robes from Bilbo's form and let his eyes roam across the scarred plain of his slightly chubby torso. The spider bite had been scarred over and it was the first place the White Orc aimed.

He had removed Thilia's dagger when he spotted the ivory handle and thrust it halfway into the scar and indulged himself in the tantalizing scream that Bilbo let out.

"T-That all y-you got?" he breathed out, "S-spider b-bites worse."

"I am no spider," was all he got in return.

Then with his prosthetic arm/blade he began to carve crude words in Westron deep into skin and muscles.

_**E** _

_**L** _

_**F** _

_**K** _

_**I** _

_**N** _

_**G** _

_**W** _

_**H** _

_**O** _

_**R** _

_**E** _

From his collarbone to his naval, Azog cut deeply with the intent to scar and if he lived then scar he would. If not then it would be what the healers would find on his body when prepping it for a burial.

The hobbit screamed loudly and underneath him he didn't see the gathering of some of the Company as well as Legolas and Tauriel at the bottom of the tower. Nor could he tell if they heard his pain filled bellows, but he knew that this was the height of cruelty. Blood dripped into his right eye as he tried to glare at Azog.

Azog grabbed him by the hair and sliced the rope from his little support beam, and Bilbo grinned.

"See you in Mordor you monster," he gasped.

A smile flitted across Azog's face, but it twisted him into something more evil. "I believe you sire said that too when I slayed him," and he made a moved to drop the hobbit from the top of the tower.

Something in Bilbo snapped as he felt the descent begin, and it caused him to grab the sharp edge of the orc's sword arm. Pulling him over the edge as well and the two fell.

Bilbo remembered the screams of Tauriel and Fili as he and Azog crashed to the ground together. His body was impaled on the arm of Azog but Azog's head was bent at an odd angle.

He remembered when Legolas grabbed at him desperately.

He remembered when Legolas laughed with him in the Palace at his stories.

He remembered the devastation that shone in Legolas' eyes when he closed his.

He remembered the happiness in those blue orbs when he pushed a pie into Thranduil's face.

He remembered too much in his fifty years.

Though he remembered wishing he was dead most of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I left it like this, but the next chapter is slowly being written right now.
> 
> Ragehappy Mavin Fan  
> (A.K.A. Rhohel_of_the_Shire)


	6. Deathless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who was that?" a younger elf asked and Bilbo answered him.
> 
> Completely sure of his answer he said, "Death."
> 
> At this point not even the warmth in his hand had given the poor hobbit any sort of comfort; they were all on the brink of death. It was only a matter of time before Death was back.
> 
> They were all afraid of who was going to be next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the great feedback from the last chapter! I was going to take this story to ten or so chapter if anyone was wondering; this story will cover the Battle and its aftermath before I end it. I might think of doing a sequel for it afterwards.
> 
> Paring: Bilbo Baggins/Thranduil, Elven King of Mirkwood
> 
> Bilbo Baggins/Legolas Greenleaf
> 
> Rating: MA/Explicit
> 
> The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

The youngest dwarf in the Company of Thorin Oakenshield was frozen in place; this was something that he wished he could never see. He had spent most of his time during the journey getting to know the hobbit. He remembered how much Bilbo would move around; mothering him and Fili like their own mother Dis would. Now he couldn't just comprehend how still he was. Kili was just as still as Bilbo at this point; frozen in place because of shock.

Bilbo was still, Kili thought to himself, why was the hobbit so still?

His friend, companion, and could have been brother was laying atop the dirty sword-arm of Azog the Defiler, but he was not moving. Before anyone of the Company could process what had just happened, besides Fili who was perfectly coherent, Legolas and Tauriel ran forward. The Prince was calling the hobbit's name and desperately trying to get him to look into his eyes. His large hands grabbed onto his shoulders as he tried to shake him back into awareness.

"My lord! Its only making things worse!" Tauriel cried out, immediately halting Legolas had let go of Bilbo.

They all could see that the Prince needed to direct his anguish and anger someplace else and diverted his attention to the Company. "You!" he began shaking in rage, "You lot brought Azog with you!"

"Us? You seem to forget elf," Thorin spat, "That Bilbo was apart of our Company until you deemed it fit to liberate our hobbit from us."

"Oh? Am I truly the one to blame here?" He asked sarcastically. The elf let out a self-depreciating laugh; this was too much for him to bear and slowly the Company and Tauriel listened to him descend into insanity. His laughter shook his entire body and he grinned at Thorin; his eyes showed no mirth even though he let his laughter die away. "Aren't you and your little Company the ones that let out a dragon onto a town of Men?"

Some of the younger dwarves looked ashamed but there was little they could do to dispute the evidence.

"My Lord, I need you to stay calm. If you don't then I can't concentrate on healing him!" Tauriel yelled from her position next to Azog and Bilbo. She painstakingly spent her time removing the blade from Azog's arm, while doing her best not to jostle Bilbo's body. His torso was covered in blood and if she tried to (which she didn't) Tauriel could read the word's carved down his chest and stomach.

Her arms carried him tenderly as she tried to keep him from sliding up and down the blade. "You there, Fili come help," she ordered and the blonde easily responded. "Hold him up, don't let his body move at all," and Fili nodded. His dwarven strength did not fail as he kept Bilbo propped up; his grimaced as the head of his dear friend was pressed against his.

"IF YOU HAD NOT BEEN GREEDY-"

"GREED? WHO WAS IT THAT TURNED THEIR BACKS ON A STARVING PEOPLE?"

"You and you're line have been far to selfish!"

"IT IS IN OUR NATURE TO CRAFT FROM METALS!"

Legolas then stalked around the Company and his elven eyes peered into their very souls it seemed. "Thror was too passionate, too lustful for your craft. What do you think attracts a dragon? Huh, nawag? GOLD! PILES AND PILES AND PILES OF GOLD!"

He then rounded on the leader ruthlessly, ignoring Tauriel's pleads for him to calm down.

"Something that Erebor had and still does, who's to say that there won't be another dragon?"

"You don't know that," Balin said from his place next to the King.

"But the possibility is there isn't it? Truth hurts don't it? You truly have the curse of your lineage, to selfish to give up anything."

Thorin's blue eyes darkened considerably, nearly black as the night, but before he could say anything Legolas kept his assault up. In that moment Tauriel saw more of Thranduil in her friend than ever; the ruthlessness displayed was completely from Thranduil. Though Legolas was best known for his calm disposition that he inherited from his mother. "My mother died once for people of your line, if Bilbo dies then don't think that you could fear a dragon more than me."

Tauriel whispered a small prayer and then took Bilbo from Fili's hold, "I need you to break the metal as close as you can to his back."

"What?"

"It needs to come out, now."

Fili looked frightful about what he was just ordered to do, but he had to do it. The possibility of Bilbo dying because of him was great and he didn't want to bear that weight if he did kill the hobbit. He grabbed the end near Bilbo's back and the very edge, and with one last prayer to Aule he began to bend. Kili and Ori watched the metal bend instead of listening to Legolas and Thorin yell at the other.

Everyone flinched when they heard the sharp break of the blade, and then Tauriel whispered an apology to Bilbo before yanking the rest of the blade from him. She pressed her hands to the wound to staunch the bleeding.

"Don't talk about them like that!"

"Oh, really? You seem to talk bad about my Kin happily and freely, without a single reprimand. Can I not do the same to you? Return the favor so to speak," Legolas barked back.

Fili watched as Tauriel closed the wounds on his chest and back, her frantic whispering doing nothing to calm him down. His heart was beating a hundred miles a minute, and he looked hopeful as Tauriel met his eyes. "He going to be okay?" he asked.

"I can't do more for him than this, there is not much I can do for him anymore."

She picked up Bilbo tenderly and stood on her shaky feet; even though she was covered in the blood of her enemies and friends she looked like an angel. Her feet took her to Legolas, who calmed once he saw Bilbo, and handed him to the Prince. A nod was shared between the two of them and they began the trek down the godforsaken hill to the Elven camp.

As they left the Prince turned his head to Thorin and grinned, looking sinister with blood running down his face. A cut ran along the outer edge of his face, making his seem like his father. That smile, those eyes. "Trust me, I keep my word, I do. Not my father so don't lump me in that same pile. Once upon a time I would have helped you and your people, but your pride and arrogance overshadows your positive qualities." It was too much like Thranduil.

He stopped with Tauriel and made sure Bilbo was secure against him.

"But now that I see you for what your truly are I will not help you. Though if Bilbo dies or anything happens to him, I will make Smaug look like a small garden lizard in comparison."

He left them, and did the one thing he could do; care for Bilbo and he did.

Legolas carried his beautiful hobbit back to the elven tents carefully, doing his best not to jostle him. Blood and dirt washed off his hobbit's face as droplets fell onto him from above. He was crying or Bilbo was crying; hell maybe they were both crying. But he had no clue of anything anymore; all he knew was that he had to get Bilbo back to the camp before he died. Tauriel had tried to help the hobbit but there was too many toxins running through his body.

Poison was running through his veins once again, but it was much more potent than the venom of a giant spider. To the point where there was nothing that could be done without proper tools. The spider bite was not bad but an orc's rusted and filthy blade was going to be much worse. Not only will there be some sort of infectious bacteria on the blades but it was common knowledge that there was poison on such rage forged weapons.

"Adasser! Elvedui! To me, to me!" he cried out when he made it to the outskirts of the camp. It was devoid of life on the outside but he knew better than anyone how much of a lie that was. For when he began to call out the names of different elves they all burst out into the open air; ready for the next orders as per usual.

Adasser was much quicker to retrieve Bilbo and get him to the healer's tent while Elvedui was focused on getting the prince to safety. "Where is my father?" he asked once she settled him into a chair. Her nimble hands dabbed at a cut on his brow with a bright blue salve.

"His royal Highness is still in Dale, milord. He has called the army back not to long ago, we all heard the horn of Feren," Elvedui said as she wrapped his head in a bandage. "Be lucky milord, that I do not have to shear your hair in order to get your head injuries dressed," and Legolas rolled his eyes.

"I saw that," she murmured, "Do not think that I am young enough to not know that look. I am a mother my lord, Lumornor gives me that look all the time."

The only indication that he took that to heart was the sudden reddening of his cheeks; he had been chastised by the mother once more. "I am glad that I amuse you," he commented as she snickered silently. Elvedui was not above laughing at the Crown Prince of the Greenwood, not when she had watched him grow from a small child to a strong adult.

She knew that their small talk would only delay what was going to come; the overwhelming guilt was seen in the depths of Legolas' blue eyes. Elvedui could see that her Prince was on the verge of a mental breakdown. She had seen what had happened to her Little Master, or Young Master if he would stop getting flushed whenever she said it; and to be frank it was terrible. The letters had been meant to scar him for life and Tauriel's healing was never meant to prevent scarring. It was meant to prevent further infection and people from bleeding out.

They all knew that.

"He almost died, he  _is_  dying."

"I assure you that Adasser and the others will ensure his survival."

"He's so small, there is no way he can make it through this," Legolas muttered to himself mostly, but Elvedui answered him.

"The Young Master will live milord."

"I'll kill Oakenshield for this."

"I do not underestimate that statement."

"Bilbo's going to die. My Little One is going to die."

"He will not sire," came Elvedui's steady reply.

"The people I love seem to be dropping like flies; first Naneth then Bilbo?"

"All will be okay."

Elvedui was not so sure about that.

~.~.~.

He was being ignored. Something that didn't happen since the elves took him in; he had tried to stop Legolas from verbally assaulting Thorin. He had tried to get Thranduil's attention when he came across the elf known as Erwarth in the eyes of her people. He tried to prevent Thranduil from ordering her arrest but no one seemed to listen to him.

Bilbo was cold constantly and he was frightened at everything. Though he was most shocked by the sight of his own limp body as Tauriel pulled the blade from him; he felt as if his body was rippling. Like the waters of a pond after one has thrown a rock into the once peaceful surface. His hands were see through and it scared him greatly; if this was the afterlife then he did not want it.

"Legolas," he tried to talk to the Prince once more. This time Legolas was holding his hand and to Bilbo he could feel the warmth even though his hands were empty. It was nice to feel something other than the biting cold. "Please answer me," but Bilbo got not a single response.

"Thranduil? Can you hear me?" Bilbo then tried to talk to the Elven King, who had a hold of his other hand.

No one heard him and no one could see him. It drove him crazy.

"Why can you not hear me?"

So he began to spend his time by wandering the healing tents and to his relief most of the elves there were awake and alive. But there were some that were like him, just staring at their bodies. Needless to say Bilbo was overjoyed and ran up to a brunette, who was watching her own surgery. "Can you hear me?" he asked and was happy to receive a response from her.

"Little Master? Is it truly you?" she asked incredulously and Bilbo nodded.

"Do you know what's happening?"

The elf looked over to her bleeding body and nodded, "I fear that we are watching ourselves die."

"What?" and Bilbo was stumped. There was no way this was happening to him, but even as he talked to the poor elf he could see that there was others like them listening in. "We can't be dying; there is no way," he said in a stupor. What would become of Thranduil and Legolas if he died?

"You lie Hadril (Thrower of Spears)!" an elf Bilbo remembered as Dimaethorn (Silence Warrior) cried out. His own body was just laying there limply as healers ran around trying to help all that needed it.

"Do I?"

"Hadril, do you know what is going on?" Bilbo asked gently and the brunette nodded.

The other elves listened in eagerly, some leaving their bodies to get closer to the young elf. "This happened to me before," Hadril began slowly, "I've watched this happen to myself many years ago. But I had an option at the time, one that might not be available to any of us this day."

"GET ON WITH IT!" one of the elves screamed.

"There was a man, cloaked in all black, leaning over my body and he tried to touch my cheeks. I could feel my body sort of ripple as he got closer and closer I began to get fainter. He turned his head to look at me before he could and winked. Then he touched my father's body and I watched his soul leave him and he grabbed the man's hand.

Then there was an archway that appeared before them and he walked through, but his body-" she cut herself of with a small sob. "His body was dead as soon as he grabbed that hand! I'm afraid that I'll have to grab his hand this time around!"

Bilbo gave her a comforting pat on the head before he gasped; he fell to his knees and clutched at his heart as if he was in pain. The warmth that was in his hands had been replaced by stabbing pains in his chest. The other elves tried to help him but Bilbo shrugged them off and ran back to his tent, Dimaethorn and some others followed him.

The hobbit ran through the tent flaps in time to see his body jerk and spasm as Adasser and some healers frantically tried to keep him alive. The warrior elves that followed Bilbo gasped in shock as the dark figure appeared over Bilbo's body. The man's fingers ghosted over his cheeks and Bilbo shuddered; but the man's head shot upwards and a cruel smile flitted across that ghostly face.

He turned to Dimaethorn and behind the cloaked man Bilbo saw his body settle when the man's attention was diverted. The warrior elf backed away as the man came closer and closer, "No. NO!" Though the smile on his face grew as an archway materialized behind them, and Dimaethorn's hands were grabbed by the man.

All of them watched as the warrior was lead against his will to the arch and his spirit was then pulled into the afterlife.

"She was right," a female spluttered.

"It nearly killed me," Bilbo was pulled into a comforting hug by one of the archers.

He could only watch as Adasser sigh in relief as Bilbo's body once more calmed and Legolas grabbed one of his hands once more. Thranduil merely looked stricken as his body lay against the bloodstained sheets. He ignored the reassurances of the others as he tried to comprehend the near death experience he had.

"Who was that?" a younger elf asked and Bilbo answered him.

Completely sure of his answer he said, "Death."

At this point not even the warmth in his hand had given the poor hobbit any sort of comfort; they were all on the brink of death. It was only a matter of time before Death was back.

They were all afraid of who was going to be next.

Eventually the elves and hobbit returned to their own bodies and they all waited in tortuous silence. Over time Bilbo would periodically leave his body's side to go check on the other elves. Most had either been dragged to their afterlife or they had woken up and poor Hadril was not one of the lucky elves. She was pronounced dead after Bilbo's last visit to her. Effectively making his time in this experience much more quieter.

Then he decided that the silence was slowly killing him and shadowed both Legolas and Thranduil; at this point it had been two weeks of his out of body experience when he sat in on a meeting. Bilbo listened to the discussions and fought the urge to bash his head into a wall.

"What do you mean?" Legolas asked as Bard sat across from him and his father.

It was in this moment Legolas realized how much he hated these new pointless meetings; all of the leaders from Dain to Bard were there. Even the Master of Laketown was there when it was revealed that he somehow managed to leave the burning town alive, unfortunately Legolas lamented. He very much hated the greedy man and his attempts of trying to buddy up with Thorin and Thranduil.

The Master contradicted himself as he hastily agreed to anything money related.

He sighed inaudibly and forced himself to listen to the horrible discussions, and wishing that he could be by Bilbo's side. Little did he know that Bilbo was sitting in his lap silently.

"I mean that it is only fair that we get to see this so-called "Halfling" that I keep hearing about," The Master demanded, "I wish to see this exotic creature for my own eyes. See if he meets up to the certain...labors as rumored."

Bilbo sighed as he climbed off the elf's lap and stepped off to the side of the large tent, not wanting to let himself be caught in the middle of this fight. And what a fight it was. Legolas stood so quickly that his chair flipped backwards and the elven guards unsheathed their weapons, all were waiting for the slight nod of Thranduil's head. All waiting for that silent permission.

"Now, now," the Master sweated nervously at the sight of the ivory blades, "I am only asking for permission to try your wares."

The dwarves merely kept their mouths shut for once; letting the Man succumb to his own folly. Many now knew the possessiveness that the Mirkwood Elves harbored for Bilbo, and the fierceness that they protected the hobbit. They did their best to protect him physically and mentally.

Thranduil looked to his son and nodded; all the elves sans Thranduil began to circle around the table until a dwarf from the Iron Hills thought it funny to try and trip one of them. After a well delivered insult by the elf in question and a spit from another dwarf Bilbo watched the entire tent fall into chaos. The two Kings in the room also getting into the fight as well.

"Stop it please," he ordered, even though he was used to being ignored by this point.

The wine that Thranduil was sipping on was lightly sloshing as people bumped into the large table and Bilbo grew frustrated as elves, men, and dwarves fought each other. Legolas slammed a blonde dwarf against the table and used his hair as leverage in order to bash the dwarf's head into the wooden surface. "I said that's enough!" but none heard him.

As a sign of frustration he smacked Thranduil's glass and was mystified to see that the glass was sent flying. The red liquid splattered against the tent and the effect was almost immediate. The fight was halted and they only watched as the stain began to travel down.

Bilbo grinned; he might have finally found a way to communicate with others.

~.~.~.

The rest of the day involved Bilbo returning to his bedside and beginning his vigil next to his body once more; he was just waiting for someone to return to him. Only so that he might be able to try and get someone to notice him; though he found it very strange. He spent much of his time touching the bodies of Thranduil and Legolas but neither had noticed him. Though the minute he hits a glass in frustration he manages to send it flying.

It all befuddled him so much.

There was a bright side to his monochrome world; his body was healing slowly but there were still moments when Bilbo saw the cloaked man. Sometimes he was just standing near the flaps of the tent. Other times he was hunched over Bilbo's head; just waiting for the moment he could take the hobbit from this world.

There was so much that he wanted to do while he waited, but it was all cut short once he saw the cloaked man once more.

"You know who I am," came his whisper of a voice.

"I do."

"So you know what is to happen then, yes?"

"I do."

"Then there is no use fighting the inevitable as your warrior friend Dimaethorn had tried to do."

Bilbo shook his head, "There is always something to fight for, Death."

Death smiled grimly and nodded at Bilbo, "I will be back to claim your soul for my own. It may be tomorrow or the next decade, but the soul of Bilbo Baggins will be mine."

"I look forward to the day that might occur, but if it is today or tomorrow I will fight with everything I have. The next time I greet you, it will be a punch to the face."

The apparition smiled, "I look forward to the day."

Bilbo nodded to Death and let out a sigh of relief as soon as Death disappeared from view; of course he would be the one to threaten Death with a punch in order to stay with the Elves of Mirkwood. If the elves were willing to do anything to keep him alive then he would make it his priority to stay alive. Bilbo owed them that much at the very least for all that they have done for him.

Then the flaps to his tent opened and he brightened up at the sight of Legolas, Tauriel, and Thranduil; their visits made him smile. Though this time they were all hopeful, and most of the other visits they were silent. Keeping their vigil next to him and talking sporadically. Tauriel put a glass full of Dorwinion Wine on the small end table next to Bilbo's bed and Legolas moved forward with a quill and parchment.

"Bilbo? Are you there?" Legolas asked carefully, "If you are then please do something."

His hobbit sensibilities tingled in his happiness and the one thing he did in his excitement was ... unintelligent to say the least. Bilbo was embarrassed to even think about the fact that he began to braid Thranduil's hair. He wasn't even good at braiding so all Bilbo managed to do was tangle the hair of the immaculate Elven King. Thranduil's eyebrows shot up as he touched the back of his head and winced when he tried to untangle the braids.

"It is good to know you're here Little One," he said as he eventually gave up on his hair.

Bilbo winced when he saw that his finger managed to make the world's biggest knot in his hair, and his honey eyes shone with mirth. "Do you know what is happening to you?" Tauriel asked him and Bilbo stuck his finger in the wine and eventually wrote "YES". The wine was hard to write with since the liquid ran and he literally had to redo his letters over and over.

Could they not find anything better than wine?

"What is happening then Little One?" Legolas asked him.

The three elves froze as they watched invisible fingers write DEATH on the tent flaps in a blood red color of wine.

~.~.~.

Cold dark eyes watched the little improvised, makeshift, shitty cell tent (or whatever her fellow elves wanted to call it). Her insides were burning with contempt for her once fellow guards and her hatred for the King grew tenfold. She was going to make them rue the day they took away her name.

She was Barhador, One Faithful to Home; she only assisted the dwarrow of Erebor only for the benefit of her King Thranduil! Why should she get punished for helping?

In the cold wind that ran across the Desolation, Barhador planned. They had taken the one thing that meant anything to her, so she would take the life of the one that meant most the Mirkwood Elves.

Barhador would wait quietly for years if she had to; she would kill Bilbo Baggins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy! Tell me if you all like it or if you just want to give a little advice.
> 
> Ragehappy Mavin Fan  
> (A.K.A. Rhohel_of_the_Shire)


	7. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was calling out to him, and all the unease he felt disappeared.
> 
> Bilbo had forgotten how much the little trinket meant to him.
> 
> As he bent down to pick it up, it felt almost like it wanted him to find it; for him to wear it. He was so close to it, maybe it wouldn't hurt to wear it one last time. Though as he began to put it on his finger he was jolted from his trance when he heard his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, there will be ten-ish chapters if any of you guys were wondering. I am thinking up the plot of a sequel and if I go through it will be within this year but not any time soon. Edit: I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING AN UPDATE QUICKER!
> 
> Paring: Bilbo Baggins/Thranduil, Elven King of Mirkwood
> 
> Bilbo Baggins/Legolas Greenleaf
> 
> Rating: MA (might be Explicit)
> 
> The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

By the time that the Elven Army had made it to Mirkwood, Bilbo had become used to communicating through spilled ink and wine. The once lonely days were spent trying to tell Legolas or Thranduil if anything happened to him. On the bright side he hadn't seen Death since he promised him a good sucker punch to the face, but he had not woken up yet. There was little to do in the month that he had been in this death like state, and he feared that he wouldn't be released from it soon.

He was lonely no matter how much time he spent with Thranduil and Legolas, and he wanted nothing more than to be held. Bilbo missed the way that Legolas and Thranduil would comfort him and relax with him.

Though he also missed the Shire and sometimes wished that he had never left the rolling green hills. If he hadn't then he would be safe and no matter how much he had been snubbed by his family and neighbors it was better than being on the brink of death. But if he hadn't had left then he would have been harvesting tomatoes and just wasting away in his smial with no life.

A life with overprotective and possessive elves was better than a life being half lived.

So he would wait, he would wait with the elves.

Though he had gotten into some mischief of his own, and often tried to scare the other elves. But word got around that it was him scaring them and all the elves relaxed, hell most of them laughed. All of them knew that the odd shoe missing or the bouncing hair of the King was their hobbit's doing, and it was adorable to them if they were being honest.

However, Bilbo was getting cold; his soul feeling stagnant and unstable without an anchor to the physical world.

There was less and less that eh could do as the time wore on without his body improving; his little disturbances became nonexistent, and he found that he was unable to communicate with the royal elves as much anymore. "Bilbo, are you still with us?" they would ask but Bilbo was unable to communicate with them.

Then when wandering in the Palace he found something that sent chills through him.

A dead elf was leaned against the door of the dungeons; the face was bloodied and unrecognizable but there was only one prisoner he knew of that could have done this. There was a rustle behind him and he saw the swish of a tunic as a person rounded a corner. Bilbo frowned and ghosted down the halls after the elf; maybe it was Erwarth.

The ex-captain was not yet sentenced to anything for her crimes and waited for punishment in the dungeons; and if he remembered she was the only person that could be responsible for the guard's death. "Wait!" he cried out in vain when he stumbled across a dead servant, but the person (Erwarth he believed) was fast. There was no energy that Bilbo could use to catch up with her, so he could only follow her trail of blood and death.

And did he follow it; all the way to the healing halls were his body was.

Behind him he heard a chuckle and found Death watching him; that sickening grin on his face and Bilbo felt a panic. Surely someone would find the trail of dead elves and alert the guards or the King and Prince. Though he doubted that anyone other than other guards would be out at night, and he made up his mind. He had nearly died once, but he would not die. Not when he still had the chance to save his life.

The hobbit balled his fists and ran towards the specter; he made good on his promise to punch Death. That only served to weaken his already weak soul, but he still ran. He had to tell Thranduil or Legolas; he had to.

It was easy to find the Prince; Legolas was often kept up at night just wondering the balconies as he remembered the tragedy that was the Battle. The elf prince tried to make himself look strong during the day but he often had nightmares that kept him up at night. Maybe he could get help from the restless prince, and just as he turned a corner Bilbo found Legolas resting next to a statue. A pipe dangling from his lips with some foul Green Hart weed (how he wished he could show the elves that Old Toby was better than their elven grown weed).

"Legolas!" but as usual the elf didn't know he was there until Bilbo ripped the pipe from his mouth.

The elf was startled for a second but frowned, "Bilbo? Is that you?"

Bilbo gripped Legolas' night shirt and pulled desperately, trying to get the elf to move. "What?" he heard Legolas asked but followed in the direction the shirt was being pulled in. The elf followed him obediently and waited patiently when Bilbo lost the energy to keep his grip on the shirt.

"Where are we going?"

There was no answer from Bilbo as they went further and further into the Palace, before finally coming up to the dungeon entrance. Legolas' eyes widened and Bilbo felt his hands pass through the shirt once more but he was too tired to try and get a grip again.

"No," Legolas whispered as he looked at the dead guard. Without hesitating the elven Prince took off towards the healing halls at a break neck pace; and Bilbo tried to follow him. He really did but the hobbit felt like each step weighed more than Smaug as he tried to follow Legolas. His body ghosted down corridors as he tried to get keep going, but the Elf Prince was too fast.

He just couldn't keep up anymore.

The hobbit remembered looking up to see feet making their way closer and closer to him, but he couldn't find it in himself to care if they belonged to Death or not. Bilbo wanted to sleep; he couldn't keep doing this forever. His pale eyelids began to slide together when he saw the feet suddenly stop and a laugh bellow out from the owner's body.

"Looks like today is your lucky day Bilbo Baggins," and the hobbit merely closed his eyes.

His soul fading slowly as the figure walked away; and Death whistled as he walked. Such a busy day he was having but he did love the souls of the Eldar when they passed on. Their struggles to stay atuned to the life they had before they were cut off from the world they lived in for thousands of years; but even if Death found the small joys of his job he hated it.

There was nothing sadder than having to steal the souls of children and the elderly from their loving families; to have to torment Bilbo Baggins with the thought of possibly dying. To have to sometimes comfort the blackening souls of soldiers that he plucks from the battlefields. Sure there were perks to his job, but he sometimes wished that there was someone else who could take the job.

But he had better things to do than dwell on his occupation; like escort the soul of Erwarth to the afterlife.

~.~.~.

His little hobbit was so pale against the bedding when Legolas found him; the once perfectly colored lips were a depressing greyish hue. Though he was more alarmed at the sight of his father standing next to his sick bed with a blade raised to a slender neck.

"Ada!" and that one little word had surprised the King. Thranduil, having thought Legolas was asleep, startled and that was his mistake when the elf shoved her own sword into his body. The metal was unforgiving against his skin and cut easily through muscle and flesh without a second thought. If anything the King merely let out a pained gasp but held still as she yanked the sword out of him.

But Thranduil never fell; no, he just stood there with that cocky grin of his. "You honestly think that such a nick will save you from my wrath Erwarth?" and he raised his sword. There was no fight left in the elf but that one spark of rebellion that she always had; and she parried his blow easily.

Her ultimate goal was not him; no, she was going to take the hobbit out of this world. Thranduil had taken away everything she had worked so hard for in this life all because she believed in a cause that was bigger than her. Erwarth - no Barhador was not going to stand for it!

He took away her career, her citizenship, and even her name away from her; but she was going to take his love from him. Her nimble frame moved quick and she sliced haphazardly at the King. His arm being one of the victims of her wrath and she kept her ground before twisting to try and get him in the side. He gasped when he blade slid easily into his hip. Thranduil let his guard down for a moment and that moment was all that she needed.

It was a shame that Legolas was hurt so, but it was the only thing she had to cling to. Barhador was not going to let Thranduil take away her revenge. She turned quick on her heels and raised the sword above her head and plunged the blade deep into flesh. The elf was shocked as the blood ran freely and onto the bed sheets.

All through this Bilbo Baggins slept on, his body laying prone under Legolas as the prince grasped the blade with both hands before it could have went any deeper into his stomach. "You won't touch him or anyone ever again," he grit out of his teeth. Legolas nodded discreetly and Barhador's mouth opened as if to say something.

It merely closed and opened as her eye rolled to the inside of her head.

Thranduil and Legolas let her head fall to the floor happily without her body; the prince was keeping pressure to the wound , but was unconcerned about it in general. He had endured much worse than this in his lifetime and some insubordinate she-elf was not going to end him. "Ion nîn, will you be alright?" Thranduil asked him as he held him own wounded arm.

"Yes ada, is Bilbo okay?"

The hobbit was untouched by anything harmful but he was rather soiled and unresponsive. "I believe so ion nîn," Thranduil said as he sat back on the bed next to Bilbo's and grabbed his arm.

"Shall I get the healers?" Legolas asked.

"That would be preferable."

The Elven King was a picture of perfection even as blood was oozing from between his fingers as he sat in complete silence; his blue eyes trained on the form of his hobbit. If he hadn't been here already, just waiting next to Bilbo's body then the hobbit would be killed. For what he knew was revenge, but there was no sympathy for the corpse on the ground before him.

Perhaps had it been Tauriel or some other respected Captain of his; then the situation would be a little more different. However he had kept an ear on Barhador throughout the years she had served under him, just like he did for any other upcoming elf in his army. She was no different than the others but she was more cruel. Sure the young elf had been efficient but back then he had only seen a tool to use whenever he wanted.

Now he realized that there was more to her than he thought and maybe if he had taken more precautions then the elf wouldn't have been insubordinate. Though it was now water under the bridge, if she had taken more than just a bit from his arm and side then he wouldn't have been merciful to just behead her then and there.

If Bilbo had been touched at all, then Barhador would have gotten something worse than death. He would have had her begging for death, but if his anger was something then Legolas's was a hurricane. His son was truly able to hold a grudge bigger than anything or anyone he had ever seen.

Thranduil sighed and allowed his shoulders to slump as he held onto his wounds; and allowed his eyes to wander. Of course he would love to help clean off Bilbo and transfer him to another bed, but he didn't want to make things worse for him.

Then as he was about to avert his eyes from Bilbo's still form he saw the hobbit's fingers twitch. Even if just a little they twitched and that was more than enough for Thranduil. The king got to his feet and went over to Bilbo's side and used one of his bloodied hands to hold Bilbo's clean ones.

"Wake up, wake up," he whispered to the small hobbit.

He wasn't really surprised when Bilbo didn't rouse at all, or even show any sign that he heard Thranduil speak to him. The hobbit slept on and Thranduil moved back to lay on the other bed. Maybe he was just seeing things, but he had been so sure that he had seen his fingers move. He hissed when he pulled his hand back and looked at the deep crimson red that colored the pale skin.

"Eru that hurts," and as soon as he began to apply pressure on it he heard coughing.

Thranduil turned his head to see Bilbo's honey eyes snap open, and his small body be racked with huge coughs. The elf king jumped to his feet as quick as he dared and rushed over to Bilbo. "Calm down and breath," he whispered to his hobbit and removed his hand from his side to help prop up Bilbo.

"T-Thranduil?" and even though his voice was hoarse and rough from weeks of disuse Thranduil thought it was the most beautiful sound he heard in a long time.

"It'll be okay, I promise,"and Bilbo looked at the blood that stained his pristine sheets.

"B-Blood."

"That'll be her," and his head turned enough to meet Barhador's still eyes. Bilbo knew that she would get what she deserved, but still when he blacked out he wasn't expecting to wake up in his body. It was a little disconcerting to him, since he had gotten rather used to seeing his own body through another perspective.

He scowled at her and settled back against Thranduil, "Yes, I was r-rather aware of her. Until t-the end."

Bilbo closed his eyes and let his breathing steady out; at least he was awake now.

~.~.~.

It was a shame, he thought as he stood in front of a rather large mirror; his nude chest bare to any that would have seen fit to enter the room at that precise moment. Bilbo abhorred the crude letters dug into his skin; the puckered skin telling all what and who he was. Of course Legolas and Thranduil have done all they could to keep the scarring to a minimal, but even the elven healers could not make the words fade from view.

Maybe he shouldn't have provoked Azog to the point where he would torture him, but at the time he was so certain that he'd die. Bilbo didn't want to die as a coward, a sniveling mess. If anything he wanted to die with his dignity intact, and if he had died that day on Ravenhill then he'd be happy. Instead he was trapped in some psuedo-hell for months.

"Bilbo?" and the hobbit turned to see Legolas enter his room with a tray piled high with food in his hands.

Legolas knew what Bilbo was doing but for the sake of his hobbit he didn't talk about it; instead letting Bilbo be the one to broach the subject when he was ready. "The cooks still have a hard time cultivating and preparing the hardy food that you've been wanting. Also there have been ravens from Erebor with letters written to you. Prince Fili and the Ur Family mostly, but every now and then an Ori has been asking for you," he said idly as he set the food at the small table in Bilbo's room.

"Some letters have been sent to me personally, one from Balin. Apologizing to me, and then there was another from Prince Fili. He wants to make sure that you're okay," his small talk eased Bilbo as the Prince poured some tea for himself and Bilbo. When he finished Legolas picked up a small silken shirt and walked over to Bilbo.

He accepted the shirt and slid it on, "Thank you Legolas."

"It's not a problem Little One. Come, I've gotten some stew for you, with those mashed potatoes you love so."

Bilbo was led over to the table and gulped a little nervously; he wasn't sure if he could handle such a hearty meal. While he was grateful at Legolas's attempts to try and cheer him, Bilbo was just getting off of a strict soup regimen. And Legolas had went and gotten him a meal that he could have eaten in Hobbiton once upon a time.

The tea went down easily and he munched on one small cookie without much problem; then he let Legolas clear away his dish only to replace it with a hobbit sized bowl of beef stew. A smile flitted across his face and Bilbo quietly dug into his food, letting the Prince talk about everything and anything. His stomach was trying to calm and eventually Bilbo had to reject anymore food.

"Thank you Legolas, but I'm going to retire for the night."

Legolas, who was having a nice dinner, nodded respectfully even though Bilbo could see that he was a little sad. He cleared away all their dishes and put it on the tray before he bent at the waist to give Bilbo a kiss on the cheek. The hobbit returned it before letting the Prince leave and gingerly he held his stomach.

"Fresh air, need some fresh air," he murmured to himself.

The air was cool and his large feet brushed against the stone walkways as he made his way outside; the guards stationed near his room tensed and tried to follow him. Though he merely waved them off, and kept going. His head was spinning and his feet were stumbling along the paths near the gardens. "Calm down, calm down," he said to his stomach as it lurched.

Bilbo had no clue where he was going or how he was going to get back to his room, but that didn't stop him. Even when his stomach settled Bilbo kept going, beyond the boundaries of the actual Realm and into the sickened forest. Something was calling him forward. Armed with his memory guiding him through the twisting dirt paths Bilbo walked; then he stumbled across the decayed remains of the spiders from his journey.

A bead from Oin's hair and one of Ori's broken quills littered the ground. The little things that happened to be ignored during their struggle, and he walked over a button from Thorin's pack. He smiled fondly as he remembered some of their time together, the Company was a family to him.

It was a damned shame he wasn't included in that family.

Kili's broken arrows nearly stabbed into his foot had he not seen it in time, and a forgotten dagger of Fili's was laying on the ground against a root. Just waiting for its owner to come and claim it. Behind all of the mementos of the Company's was a little ring, sitting innocently on a piece of his red vest. It was covered in some leaves but he could see it even in the dark.

It was calling out to him, and all the unease he felt disappeared.

Bilbo had forgotten how much the little trinket meant to him.

As he bent down to pick it up, it felt almost like it wanted him to find it; for him to wear it. He was so close to it, maybe it wouldn't hurt to wear it one last time. Though as he began to put it on his finger he was jolted from his trance when he heard his name.

"Bilbo!"

"Little Master!"

"Bilbo."

"Bilbo!"

"Little One!

"BILBO!"

He lifted his head and shoved the ring into one of his trouser pockets, and knelt in the dirt. Bilbo gave a cry of pain as his began to pound in agony; he clutched at his wild curls desperately. Trying to make some sense of what was wrong with him. All the while the ring was sitting happily in his pocket, ready to begin a new plan.

To become what it was supposed to be.

It was and forever will be a legend.

Well, right now it needed all the help it could get to become that once more. It could tell that it had better luck manipulating the hobbit than it would trying to go for the host it would prefer. Now it couldn't feel emotions but it was sentient enough to understand that this creature it was now controlling was different than any other.

The hobbit was happy to be controlled, and the ring deduced it was the elves that rushed to his aid. If only it could get the luck it need to go one with its plans.

Legolas stopped just short of Bilbo's fallen body as the other elves began to check their surroundings; something was wrong with his Little One. Where Bilbo looked healthy Legolas feeling like there was something sick in Bilbo. He quickly glanced around the small path and took in all the paraphernalia from the filthy dwarves.

Maybe his Little One was just trapped in the past. He had seen what memories could do to a man, and like a good elf Legolas picked Bilbo up from the dirt. He could care less about how the white silk was dirty or how Bilbo would need another bath. All he wanted to know was that he would be okay. In his haste to make sure his hobbit was going to be cleared for any injuries, none of the elves payed attention to the fact that a small ring fell from Bilbo's pocket.

It was hidden by the leaves that the elves kicked up in their haste to leave, and it would stay on the Elven Path through Mirkwood for years before it would be picked up again.

By that damned hobbit.

And the ring didn't have the capability to actually hate something or someone, but it was feeling a little animosity towards its chances that were disappearing from it. Though it had spent countless years with Smeagol, it can wait some more years for it to be picked up again. But it was so close to using someone with such a tangible and open mind; something it hadn't encountered since Isildur.

It had done a job that needed to happen.

The hobbit knew the temptation that came with the ring; to feel protected, to hold power that he never knew. It knows that he will feel the absence of the ring keenly, and will seek it out once more.

Yes, Bilbo Baggins was a very special hobbit.

I mean it wasn't every day that a race that was thought to be a legend was coveted by elves and the One Ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry for not updating on this story, I really am. I'm looking to finish this story and then work on finishing my other ones.
> 
> Ragehappy Mavin Fan  
> (A.K.A. Rhohel_of_the_Shire)


	8. Legendary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bilbo is no longer the same, in fact he is legendary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck, I'm going to finish this story. It may not be for the ten chapters that I originally planned for, but its damn close. That counts right? Well, I hate to push out chapters that won't make sense or seem like I'm just filling the page with bullshit. Its not fair to you guys.
> 
> But someone said that I need to write more for them, so listen.
> 
> I write for myself and so I can share this shit with you guys. I don't need to do fucking anything, if I don't upload for a fucking year then I don't upload. I got a life, no matter how shitty, and I can't write 24/7. Thanks to the people that wait patiently for my ass it makes all this worth it, and if you can't respect that then there are other things to read. Or use your imagination and make up your own ending.
> 
> Paring: Bilbo Baggins/Thranduil, Elven King of Mirkwood
> 
> Bilbo Baggins/Legolas Greenleaf
> 
> Rating: MA (because ain't no part of me can write smut to save my life, its like this because of graphic gore in earlier chaps)
> 
> The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

"Wake up Little One."

"No."

"We made you second breakfast, come join us at the table," Thranduil said.

"No."

"Why not?" Legolas asked him.

"Can't feel my legs."

The younger elf snickered and whispered to Thranduil, "My fault, not yours." To which Thranduil smacked his son upside the head and Legolas gave a low laugh. Of course he had to say it, but Legolas was younger than him by a considerable amount so he could see it as immaturity. Though that didn't mean that it would be immature of him to trip Legolas later on in front of the other guards.

He would be teaching a lesson.

"Breakfast can wait a bit, Legolas go get some bath oils ready."

As his son went to go do just that, Thranduil stepped over ripped and scattered clothing to reach the bedside where Bilbo was curled up in the majority of the blankets. He scooped Bilbo, blankets and all, into his bare arms and crossed the room to the connecting room with hot springs. The leather boots that both elven royals wore were carelessly thrown about, one managed to make it to the potted plants; successfully knocking it over.

Uh, so that was what the noise was last night.

His own silken pants were hanging from the chandelier and Legolas's tunic was on the back of the chaise; his magnificent cloak was underneath the pillows that were thrown off the bed. Bilbo's silver clothing was mixed in the mess and his silver fabric was actually being used as a tablecloth on one of the side tables in his room.

Maybe things got out of hand, but it was a night they wouldn't forget in a long time. Besides Elvedui or Adasser will clean up their mess later, so it wouldn't be of much consequence to spend this one morning with Bilbo.

Thranduil smirked when he saw the delicate looking bite marks on Bilbo's neck; the ones that they would leave for all to see. His pride told him to gloat, but his heart told him that he needed to treasure this moment. The rough lettering on Bilbo's chest was silver and puckered slightly; but instead of focusing on that Thranduil chose to lovingly run his hands through his hair.

"Ugh, why not have breakfast in the evening?"

Okay, so they may have overdid it a bit, but to be fair Bilbo did nothing to stop him or Legolas. He merely smirked at Bilbo and that was all the hobbit needed to keep his mouth shut. Grumbling about how difficult elven royalty can be, and ignoring the prince who yelled, "I heard that!" Thranduil ducked his head when Legolas threw a small bar of soap at him.

This life had some perks to it, Bilbo would admit that, but he was happy and wholesome. He couldn't say that he didn't miss some of his friends in the Company, because he did. He missed the ones that made that journey worth taking, he missed Gandalf, the one who pushed him to go in the first place. Bofur, who believed in his abilities when no other did.

Sweet, sweet Fili and Kili, the two little scamps that made him laugh when morale had been at its lowest. And Balin, dear Balin, the grandfather he hadn't seen since Old Took had died years before.

That was it though, the rest of the Company had kept their distance from him on the way East. There had been very few redeeming qualities about the dwarves of Erebor, and one was Fili's idiocy to barter the Arkenstone. His want to find him when they had been first been captured.

But the others, they knew what they were leading him into, and he believed Thranduil when he saw how quick Thorin was to wish war upon them.

"What are you thinking about so deeply dear One?"

He flinched when he remembered where he was, still in the King's rooms bathing with both royals. Rose scented water surrounded him in the almost too big tub, and both royal elves looked at complete peace relaxing in the water. Bilbo smiled for a second, "Is the Lady Dis's caravan passing through the Greenwood today?"

Thranduil's face pinched slightly at the mention of the Princess of Erebor, but he nodded nonetheless. The king muttering for Bilbo to hear, "Yes dear One, and Legolas and I have found it imperative to provide her with a means across the wood. As a small means of wishing no ill will to our new neighbors."

"Of course Bilbo, and when she and her caravan nears the Elven Road we wish for you to join us. As a show of unity for the Greenwood, to give the impression that our house is not so easily dimmed in the dark," Legolas gushed, happy to express his and his father's great ideas. It looked rather silly to Bilbo because the entire time Legolas was pouring copious amounts of a lily-scented oil into his hair.

Thranduil was much more reserved when it came to dispensing oil into both his and Bilbo's hair, taking his time to lather the oil into their hair properly. Rinsing it out only to do the process once more to help tame some of Bilbo's more wild curls.

"As if I'd let you two go alone," the hobbit commented as a small pitcher of water was poured over his head.

The two elves smiled as a sharp knocking on Thranduil's bedroom door was heard, and with a sigh the King retrieved a nearby towel to wrap around his waist. Legolas adverted his eyes for a second so Thranduil could keep some pride, before letting Bilbo throw a wet rag at Thranduil's retreating form.

Bilbo and Legolas were allowed just a few minutes of peace before they heard the enraged 'WHAT' from Thranduil, followed by the sure words of Elvedui. The elf prince helped his little hobbit from the tub before pulling on the plug and letting the water drain out. When he turned around Bilbo had already wrapped himself in a towel and made his way back to the main bedroom.

The elf smirking as he watched the slight limp in his gait as he did so.

Whereas Thranduil had no time to admire such view, instead he was standing in fury as he listened to Elvedui talk, in naught but a towel around the waist.

"Sire, the Lady Dis's caravan was spotted by Captain Tauriel about an hour away from the Main Palace. It would seem as if the Lady decided that she would not follow the timeline given to her in favor of, how men would say, fording the river," the she-elf informed him as clearly as possible. Her arms filled with a basket of their soiled clothing but she knew the King too well to be intimidated anymore.

She watched the rage disappate when the Little Master emerged from the King's bathing rooms, and Bilbo's mere presence dulled the sharp knife that was Thranduil.

"Of course, send a party out to greet them and lead them to the Throne Room. Any of her court and caravan are to be given rooms in the Eastern Wing while she is allowed to reside in the Green Rooms."

Without a second glance he waved her away before striding over to his wardrobe and drew at the silken clothes in there, ignoring Legolas as the prince walked from the bathroom into the hallway to his own room down the hall. Exasperated, Thranduil looked over to Bilbo and scoffed.

"Ugh, dwarves."

~.~.~.

Bilbo was stunned at the uncanny resemblance between Dis and Thorin; her beard was as dark as his and her hair seemed darker when in the shadows. Her sad blue eyes stared into his soul when he and her first saw each other in the Throne Room. From his perch on Thranduil's lap, she seemed small. Smaller then most dwarves but her posture was one of an unyielding posture.

Next to her was Fili, the son that risked everything for him, because he saw what was right and what was wrong.

Something that he would never forget about the proud dwarf that strutted his way into his smial a year ago. Now he looked as if it hurt to be in their presence.

"The Lady Dis of Erebor, may I be the first to welcome you back to the East in over a century. I hope that the way home was not a treacherous one for you and your people," Thranduil began with his usual grandeur. The elf noticed how she walked towards the steps to his throne calmly.

"My brother, Thorin, has long told me stories of my home. The house in which I was born to, the same house that my sons were denied birth in. It is good to have such a warm welcome home, but I would also like to thank Bilbo Baggins, a Prince in his own right. His actions saved my sons, the only treasures in this world I hold dear. To honor him I give one gift. One gift from the Treasure Hoard of Thror."

Bilbo knew that the elves surrounding him perked up, eager to know what their hobbit was going to ask for.

He frowned a bit but stretched his legs in the slightest to signal that he was going to walk down Thranduil's throne; his bare feet touched the polished wood as he smiled at Dis. Bilbo slowly made his way down the throne before he came to a stop in front of Dis, Legolas slowly making his way down as well in the off chance that something might go wrong.

"Princess Dis, I don't ask for much. I want that that will make my own beloved feel cheer, I want nothing for my own. From the Treasure Hoard of Thror I only ask for the White Gems of Lasgalen that shine, so that others can see what I see when looking into my loved ones eyes," and he could practically hear the shock in some peoples' minds.

To be truthful he was a mindboggling fellow, but he had no need of treasure. Of things that will not comfort him when he is depressed or provide him with joys when he least expects it. Though treasure can emphasis the love that one has for another, and he hopes that he had conveyed that.

"Truly?" Dis asked him. "You would see that your one request for treasure be used in such a way?"

Above them Thranduil scoffed, "There are none that can tell what his heart may desire. Treasure he has requested and by your word, it is treasure he may receive."

Bilbo could see the dwarrowdam grit her teeth, but she gave them her most amicable smile as she bowed to them. "Of course, your Highness has no doubt that he will. On my pride and life it will be done.

"See that it will and all will be well between us."

His honey eyes scanned the dwarven caravan before Bilbo spoke, "Well, now that that is out of the way. Why do we not show you to your rooms and them we can meet again after luncheon." Before anymore words could be exchanged a firm hand at his elbow pulled at him and it was all Dis or Fili could do to see the hobbit walk away. The blonde elf prince was too smug for any dwarves liking as was the king as the entire royal family left the room at their own leisure.

The princess frowned as she and Fili were led by guards towards the Green Room, one of the only rooms ready for the Little Folk to be in inside of the Royal Wing. Or rather, Bilbo Baggins' would-have-been rooms.

Mahal, even Dis could tell that the rooms were made with the hobbit in mind. The circular design that stared at them from every aspect of the room left no room to wonder as to the owner was. "It's Bag End," Fili breathed out, "He dare?" Dis held her poor son as the disbelief in his voice rang out brokenly.

"It is hard no doubt lion, but the Bilbo Baggins you once knew is know gone. Here he is a Consort, no more than you a Prince. He has changed, has he not?" Dis asked, "Did he once tan like you or Kili? Can he hear better then some men? Has he ingested any blood of a race not his own?"

When Fili did not answer she pressed on, "Ever since you journey back to retrieve your poor mother, I have been regaled with tales of a brave hobbit, turned meek and complacent. His own life is being shaped by those around him, the spark has burnt out. It was smothered before it could grow any larger, shadowed by the silhouette of others."

"He is my friend and companion!"

"Was, darling, was. I would not see you burn yourself out on a friendship that has come and gone."

"I would see my Uncle figure back the way he was."

Defeated Fili sat upon a chair that was too much like the one that belonged to Bungo Baggins. "I mean not to break the fragile glass bubble that you live in my son, but he has let you go. Now you must do the same for him. Let Bilbo go, despite what you may tell yourself there was no way to know his future when he was found by the elves. Nor was there a way for you to have been able to save him before it was too late," Fili opened his eyes to look into his mother's own.

"It hurt Amad, to see him used as a doll. To go through the motions of living but not seeing what was in front of him. I-I I want the hobbit that stood down Thorin and called him a pauper for infringing on his hospitality. I WANT BILBO BAGGINS!"

Dis shook her head, "He is gone! And shall not return! You are too much like Vili, too much like me."

"I am my own!"

"You are bullheaded! You are young! You are my son, and you are stuck in the past as I once was," and she let her tears fall. Dis clutched at him and held him close to her heart, "You are a Durin, and no matter what. We shall endure. I am sorry Fili, but you must understand."

"I cannot," and his tear-filled eyes bore into her own.

"You will know, and I must tell you. Bilbo is gone, and he won't be coming back."

~.~.~.

In a sense Dis was right, and it had been a decade since he had aged a bit. He had the same color hair and the honey eyes he was born with; Bilbo's sight grew better as well as his other senses. His curls grew long and were braided back, but no wrinkles adorned his body. Instead of the plumpness that came natural to him he had become lithe.

He wasn't going to be the same hobbit, and Gandalf was right about that.

There was never a moment in which he was alone, Bilbo had scribes and guards surrounding him at all times in the day when Legolas or Thranduil could not. He was crowned with stars, befitting that of a Queen at Thranduil's urging.

He was formally married into the royal line as Consort of the Woodland Lineage, shared equally between Legolas and Thranduil.

Bilbo was unofficially known as the Jewel of the Greenwood, even as the woods became sicker and darker. He was becoming more and more into another person, and eventually he didn't even recognize himself.

"Bilbo! Where did you go?!" and he grinned at the little voices that chased after him. The elflings begging him to come out from the rabbit holes that he was supposed to live in.

"Attercop! Attercop! Can't catch me!" he yelled back. Delighting in the little chase that was leading them further and further from the Palace and into the woods. His feet finding a path he had not walked for more than a decade, and over relics long lost to his memories.

Then he heard it. It wasn't an elfling calling him, but something different. Something...

**precious**

Bilbo was not the same Baggins that left the Shire.

No this Baggins was corrupted and sheltered when he had once craved the wilderness after he had come to appreciate its beauty. So he ignored the sweet calls of the elflings and the always present guards were no where near. Nor was the comforting presence of both Legolas and Thranduil near him either.

So when his fingers closed around a simple golden band, and a pain like fire burned its way from his hands to his brain he screamed. It was like no other and he had forgotten the power it had given him. Instead the trepidation was too much for him to handle and he screamed and begged for someone, anyone to save him. The elflings, afraid, had fled to go find help.

Leaving him all alone to face an Enemy like no other.

And far to the South, in a desolate place where a mountain stood far beyond the others; the fires had awaken and something fierce woke. As hands grabbed Bilbo and shook him desperately, he opened his mouth and let out a terrifying keen.

His eyes opened and instead of the honey eyes the elves were used to seeing it was for a split second a cat like eye. Flaming in its intensity, but the second it closed to open it was once more Bilbo's eyes.

"Back," he croaked.

His hand was pried open only so his husbands could see the plain band, and they both blanched.

The Enemy had returned, and Bilbo had been strong enough to keep sane.

He was going to be legendary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyy! Setting up for a maybe sequel! Had to finish it there and show that Bilbo was no longer the hobbit he was. But he is now even weaker and stronger. Maybe I'll get around to writing more, but I got to finish my other stories first.
> 
> Thank you for following me on this long journey.
> 
> Ragehappy Mavin Fan  
> (A.K.A. Rhohel_of_the_Shire)

**Author's Note:**

> I really need to stop writing new stories and work on updating my others, but I can't help myself so here we are. New fucking story.
> 
> Ragehappy Mavin Fan
> 
> (A.K.A. Rhohel_of_the_Shire)


End file.
